To Protect What Is Precious
by Meiza
Summary: Having a giant alien robot practically land in your backyard is bad enough, until it shows up on your doorstep asking for help. Then again, Nolan and Aine have been wanting to get away from home. What's the worse that could happen? Famous last words...
1. Ch 1 First Contact

**AN:** Greetings everyone, and welcome to my first fanfic in any fandom! Before we get started, I need to let everyone know that this story was inspired the most my Ray of Starlights "Twin Times the Fun," and this has been written with her knowlege and blessings. I'm trying to write an original story, but chances are there are going to be parallels, and I don't want anyone mistaking me for stealing someone else's ideas. So Ray-fans, please don't come after me with pitchforks and torches.

Any and all comments will be loved, constructive criticism is appreciated, and flames will be laughed off.

**Edit 11/6/08:** I added a bit to this chapter, a few paragraphs from our star Autopots pov, to hopefully make it a little more interesting. I hope you like it!

Enjoy!

* * *

**Ch. 1 – First Contact**

"I am Optimus Prime, and I send this message to any Autobots taking refuge among the stars: We are here. We are waiting."

_I had played Optimus' message nearly a hundred times now, and it never became any less surreal no matter how many times I heard it._

_I almost could not believe it. After over a hundred thousand vorns of war, an end to the fighting finally seemed to be within reach…_

_I was not so naïve as to believe the war over already. There was too much bad blood between the Autobots and Decepticons for the war to end so easily. But I could not help but feel cautiously optimistic about a peaceful future. True, the loss of the Allspark ultimately meant the loss of Cybertron, and that was a loss I suspect I would feel heavily for a long time._

_And yet, in a strange, perhaps perverse way, I was almost glad of it. Cybertron had been consumed into a single, giant battlefield long before we had been forced to abandon it. For most of us, it only held memories of endless war, pain, and death. If I had the choice, I am not certain I would have even wanted to return. It seemed only fitting that that world, with all its dark and painful memories, be left behind only as a mausoleum for the dead._

_The journey had been long, but it was nearly done. I had already passed the systems outermost planet, in search of a small alien world I had never before seen, but would someday call home._

_I referenced the data Optimus sent in his transmission of this planet, and drew up the information about the dominant species: the Humans. I could not help but wonder, what would they be like?_

* * *

"I'm sorry sir, but that's how much it costs."

"I was told it'd only be 11 dollars over the phone!"

"But no matter how I slice it, the cheapest I can get it is 13.45. That's still over ten dollars less than what it was. I can't sell it to you for less than half of the original price."

"I was told it'd only be 11 dollars! Are you trying to cheat me?"

Seventeen year old Nolan O'Connell resisted the urge to snap at the customer to stop whining and take his freaking dry-cleaning already, there was a line forming behind him and all he was doing was wasting gas as he left his car stalling. Normally, working at the dry-cleaners wasn't a big deal, and was actually one of his better jobs. It wasn't the most paying, but most days it was pretty easy-going and quiet. This wasn't one of those days.

The customer finally got fed up, and left without his dry-cleaned pants and ties, threatening to sue them. Nolan merely put the clothes back on the conveyer. It was a pretty good job all in all, but it wasn't without its annoyances.

"Hey Nolan!"

And here comes one of them now.

Repressing a grimace, Nolan turned to see his admittedly attractive co-worker smiling brilliantly at him. "Yeah Jennika?"

"Since neither of us is working this Thursday, I was wondering if you'd like to see a movie or something with me that day?" She leaned slightly against the wall as she talked, practically radiating 'I'm-so-cute' at him.

Nolan was unaffected.

"Sorry, I'm working at my other job that day."

"You're working two jobs?" Jennika asked in slight surprise.

"Three, actually, for the summer."

"Three jobs?? Wow that must suck." Jennika said thoughtfully, lightly chewing her lower lip. "If you're working that much, then you hardly have any time for yourself to do anything fun."

"It's not that bad." Nolan said, moving around Jennika to get back to working. But the 16-year old girl wasn't done yet.

"Well, you've gotta relax and de-stress sometimes, or you'll, like, get an ulcer or something from working too much. How 'bout you talk to your boss, get a Friday off, and I'll show you a good time?" She flashed him that smile worthy of a toothpaste commercial.

If nothing else, dealing with Jennika was a good way to practice his patience.

"Thanks but no thanks. I need the money more than I need a movie, for when I move out after high school." Nolan only added the last part to stave off the questions he knew were coming.

Jennika pouted. "But whyyyyy?"

Nolan was spared from answering by a customer at the front desk, where Jennika was (supposedly) stationed. Nolan breathed a sigh of relief, as he went to taking and cataloguing the dirty clothes into the computer. The day was reasonably busy, so hopefully he wouldn't have to put up with Jennika too much for the rest of his shift.

Plus, today he had the evening free.

* * *

_Too far, the planet was too far for my energy levels. I had been left drained by my last battle, and had no more emergency rations to consume. Yes, deep space required little to no energy, but for landing and navigating through a system to find the correct world…that was taking more energy that I had hoped, and for interstellar travel I was getting worryingly low, already less than 50% capacity._

_I sped toward the planet, as it moved away from me little by little in its solar rotation. I could make out the shape of the landmasses now, and in my frustration I realized that, on my current trajectory, I was on course to land on the wrong side._

_I adjusted my course to curve around the planet, counter to its own rotation, but I was coming in too low, too fast. If I tried to land precisely where Optimus had said the new base was, I would instead risk skipping off the planet's atmosphere and ricocheting back into deep space, costing me time and energy I couldn't afford to waste to turn circle around and try again. True, there was a small margin where I could pass through the atmosphere and land close to the new base…but it was far too small for my liking. I would not chance it, not when I was so close to the end of my journey. _

_I had no choice: I had to make an early planet fall._

Well_, I thought a bit sardonically as I tipped downward,_ at least I will be able to land on the right continent_._

* * *

A bus ride, a bank trip, another bus ride, and a short trip by bike later found Nolan nearing the large white lake-side house he called home. And he used the term very loosely here.

Most people, looking at the colonial style house so near to Lake Ontario, would think that Nolan must belong to a filthy rich family and was dang lucky to be there, and would probably be completely boggled as to why he deemed it necessary to work three jobs over the summer, or why he had no plans to go to college after high school. Though if Nolan told them the truth, he doubt he'd be believed by most.

_Amazing how far a little charm and an ability to lie will get you with people_, Nolan thought darkly, swinging off his bike and wheeling it to the garage.

A sharp 'bang' sound and muffled shouting grabbed at Nolan's attention, and without a moment's hesitation he let his bike fall and ran inside through the side door. He had his reasons for wanting to leave home as soon as possible, and this was one of them.

Nolan burst through the door and ran to the living room, where the shouting was coming from – he wasn't getting every word, but it included words like 'lazy,' 'useless,' and 'backtalk'. When Nolan turned the corner, the sight that greeted him was an all too familiar one: his father, towering in his righteous anger and shouting his displeasure for all to hear, and his sister, standing before him, trying to be still but unable to stop her trembling or raise her head, for fear of exposing her tearful eyes.

"I said LOOK AT ME!" the older man shouted, lifting a hand as if to strike. He never did, but Nolan always feared he'd cross that line.

"Stop yelling at her!" Nolan shouted, coming around to stand between the two. At five foot ten, Nolan was eye to eye with his father, and served as an effective wall between the man and the tiny slip of a girl. Richard O'Connell briefly reeled back from the sudden intrusion of his personal space, but he recovered quickly.

"Get out of my face Nolan." Richard warned him lowly, eyes dark with anger. "I'm talking to your sister."

"No, your shouting at her for no good reason! What's wrong with you this time?"

SMACK!

The girl let out a small gasp. Nolan's face was forced to the side, his cheek turning red. Richard still had his hand up after delivering the teeth-shaking slap to the boy.

"Don't you dare talk back to me Nolan." Richard said, lowering his hand slightly, his voice and eyes icy cold. "I am your father and you will show me respect." Shifting his gaze, Richard redirected his attention to the quivering thing hiding behind the boy. "Aine," the girl flinched, "don't let me catch you slacking off again. We're having company tonight, six people; they'll be here by six thirty. I'm expecting you to have dinner ready and the house cleaned before they get here."

Nolan and Aine both glanced at the clock on the wall.

"But, it's already nearly four thir-"

"No excuses!" Richard snapped. His point made, he stomped off. Nolan and Aine were quiet for a few seconds, until they heard the door to the garage open and close. They were alone for the moment, at least until tonight. It would have been too much to expect the family patriarch too actually help prepare for his own party. The only reason he was having people over at all, Nolan suspected, was so that he could show off how much he had. Richard was a CEO of TechnoMain, and was paid well for it, something he enjoyed showing off every chance he had. Too bad he didn't hold a generous spirit towards his own children, beyond making sure they were presentable to others.

"You alright Aine?" Nolan asked, turning around to face the smaller girl. 14 year old Aine nodded, using the back of her hands to wipe her eyes.

"I was…I finished the laundry early, I thought I had some free time. I was just…I didn't think Dad would mind if I just read a little, so long as I was quiet."

Nolan glanced around the room, and spied the hardcover book lying on the floor by the wall, looking like it had been thrown. That explained the banging sound he heard earlier.

"I don't…I don't even know what he expects me to make or…" Aine continued, trying to hold back the tears. Nolen pulled her close into a gentle, warm hug.

"Shush Button," he said, using Aine's old nickname. "Since Dad's not here to get on my case, I'll help you, okay? We'll look online for something quick and easy so Dad won't complain, and I'll run to the store for anything we need. That sound good to you?"

Aine nodded against her brother's chest. "Times like this…" she mentioned, her voice slightly muffled by Nolan's shirt, "I wish Mom was still here. Dad was a lot nicer back then."

Nolan's memories flashed to the fights he watched his parents have when he was 12 and Aine was asleep and ignorant of it all, his father shouting and always angry, his mother meekly taking it all and trying to apologize, but it wasn't enough, no it was never enough-

Nolan said nothing, but held Aine a little tighter.

They ended up making a chicken and lemon pasta dish with tomatoes and a Caser salad. Aine wasn't sure if they were expected to make dessert or not, but just in case the girl whipped up some batter for crepes and chopped up some strawberries. Crepes filled with ice-cream, fruit, and topped with whipped cream and chocolate sauce was bound to appeal to anyone. Hopefully.

While Aine added the finishing touches to the meal, Nolan cleaned the kitchen as they went so Aine wouldn't have to do it later. Of course, he was only able to do this because Richard wasn't there. The man had strict ideas of gender-roles, and while he fully expected Aine, as the only female left in the home, to keep up ALL the household chores and cooking by herself, heaven forbid he catch Nolan helping her. The chicken was cooking in the oven by the time they heard the door open and shut again, and Nolan swiftly exited the kitchen, though he made sure to wait by the doorway, just in case Aine needed him again.

Richard came into the kitchen, and gave his daughter an expectant look.

"Chicken and lemon pasta, with a caser salad side and crepes for dessert." She explained at the silent prompt. Richard scowled.

"Crepes? You couldn't do better than that? I was expecting at least a cake or a pie if you would _deign_ to actually get off your lazy ass sometimes."

"Well what did you expect?" Nolan asked angrily, automatically stepping forward in his sister's defense. "You didn't TELL her what you wanted, and you gave her less than two hours to do everything. What do you want, a friggin' miracle?"

"I WANT Aine to do what she's supposed to!" Richard snapped. "It's too late now, so I'm just going to have to stick with it. But you, Aine, I expect you to stick around and serve everyone and take their plates away, and to refill everyone's glasses. Nolan, don't you dare show your head. I'm not going to have you embarrassing me."

"Fine, not like I want to talk to your friends anyway." Nolan retorted. Really, the people his father associated with were all assholes. Those of a feather and all. At least they didn't bother Aine. At dinners like these, they usually ignored the designated server (more often than not Aine, unless she was on her sickbed) and went about their conversations and admirations of Richards newest acquisitions or monetary windfall or what have you.

Why did the least deserving people get the best of luck?

The guests had come, had eaten, and Aine had played her role of a submissive servant yet again, while Nolan hid in the kitchen, partly to keep her company, mostly acting as sentinel, just in case. While nothing has ever happened yet, you never know when Richard might lose his patience for whatever trivial matter in front of his guests, and he wanted to be ready to protect Aine from that. She was a delicate girl, soft and gentle in personality as her name was on the tongue, and he didn't want her to be hurt worse than she could manage.

Their mother had been a gentle woman as well. Look what happened to her.

* * *

_The air whistled by and burned hot around my pod, and the misty white clouds gave way to reveal the brown and green earth below, colored grey and black by streets and buildings. So close to impact, any adjustments to my descent were limited in options and effectiveness._

_The humans had expanded far, and as a result there were few places I could land without causing destruction and risking human life and injury. _

_This was no good. Where could I land? Where could…oh!_

_The lake was close, wide and deep. I could not avoid being noticed completely, not when it was still daylight and the lake edge surrounded by buildings and dwellings, but it was safest for the humans and would suit my purposes just fine._

_I made the necessary adjustments, and headed down toward the icy, dark waters that awaited me, aiming for least populated lake side I could reach._

_So long as I was able to avoid being seen by humans directly, and found a suitable alt mode, everything would be fine._

_As I passed by over head, I caught glimpses of one or two isolated homes, far from the rest of the city. _

_Yes, one of those would suite my purposes perfectly._

* * *

Dinner was winding down, and Aine was just taking the dirty plates away to clear room for dessert. Then it happened.

Nolan had been looking out the window over the sink, which happened to be facing the lake. The sun was setting, sitting on the horizon, shining on the shifting waters. Quite peaceful, and very beautiful, he could admit. So it was quite a surprise when something large and flaming fell from the sky and crashed – not fell - crashed into the water with a boom and a splash.

"What the hell?!" Nolan shouted, back pedaling away from the window. His surprise went unnoticed, seeing as he wasn't the only one who saw the giant meteorite (for what else could it have been?). From the dining room, he could hear surprised exclamations and some panicked ones too.

"What the hell was that?!"

"Did anyone see what it was?"

"I did! Through the patio doors! I think it was a comet-"

"Sounded more like a bomb to me…"

"Is it an attack?"

"A comet, a huge comet, it went into the lake-"

"No way, it's too big, the governments probably behind it-"

"You sure it wasn't an attack? Maybe we should hunker down somewhere…"

Aine was suddenly leaning over the sink, trying to look out the small window and see what the commotion was, all in vain. The waters were still rippling, but the meteorite had disappeared under the surface. But some steam from the hot space debris was still wafting upwards, so it didn't disappear without a trace. Nolan himself hadn't moved from his new position against the kitchen island, still staring out the window in shocked disbelief. A part of him wanted to be scared, but another small part, the part that hadn't yet been forced into adulthood prematurely, was crowing just how awesome this was.

As one, all the adults were hurrying to the door, clamoring about going down to the lake and maybe getting a better idea of what that was. Sure, they probably could have turned on the news, but it was too soon and they had a chance to be among the first to know and see what happened. They might even have a chance to BE on the news!

Because of the houses proximity to the lake, it was decided that a walk would be faster and more straightforward than a drive, which meant everyone was quick to disappear. Nolan hovered in the kitchen, trying to look calm and collected, like having a huge meteorite landed practically in his back yard wasn't anything to get excited about. Aine wasn't fooled for two seconds.

"You don't need to stay with my Nolan." She told him matter-of-factly. "I'd rather stay here, but I'll be just fine alone. You go on ahead."

"But-"

"It'll give me a chance to catch up on the dishes, before they have a chance to overflow. I could use the break anyway. Just tell me how it goes when you get back."

Still Nolan hesitated, torn between his sense of duty and his youthful curiosity. Aine smiled and playfully pushed him towards the door. "So long as you don't let Dad see you, I give you my full permission to go enjoy yourself. You stay in here much longer, and I'll be forced to roll you down to the lake myself."

Nolan gave a mock long-suffering sigh. "Well when you put it like that, how can I refuse?" With a grin he gave his sister a quick peck on the forehead. "I'll tell you all about it when I get back, assuming something actually happens."

Aine lightly laughed and scooted her brother out the door. He was off like a bullet, hurrying down to the lake before whatever show that might be going on had a chance to end. Aine watched him go until he was a fair distance away before going inside to clean up the kitchen and get the dishes going. Richard's guests were going to be back later, for their cars if nothing else, and if they decided they still wanted dessert Aine would have to be ready for them.

The sun continued to get lower and lower, and everyone still hadn't come back. By there a small crowd had gathered by the lake shore, and there was even a boat on the waters heading towards where the meteorite had fallen while a helicopter circled around, probably getting footage for the evening news. Aine herself had cleaned up as much as she could, without knowing whether or not she'd be serving the crepes later. With a rare moment of free time, she decided to bring her book into the kitchen and try and pick up where she left off.

Aine glanced at the garbage, which Nolan had forgotten to take out the evening before. Really, she was mildly surprised no one had noticed yet. Well, she might as well take it now and save her older brother the trouble.

Carrying the full trash bag over her shoulder Santa-style, Aine navigated her way out the door and around the house, dumping the trash in the large blue receptacle located on the side of the house. Come to think of it, the garbage was being picked up tomorrow. While she was out here, she might as well bring the bins out to the curb.

With that in mind, she cheerfully lifted the latch that kept the gate closed and pulled the trash receptacle out, pulling it behind her as she led it to the curb, already anticipating some mild difficulties getting around the cars that filled the driveway and the street.

Something impossibly tall and metal was kneeling on the driveway, staring at one of the said cars intensely, leaning forward and using one of its hands to hold itself steady, the other folded on its knee.

Aine stopped in mid step, her hands going numb and loosening their grip on the receptacle handle. For the longest time she couldn't move, couldn't blink, couldn't _breathe_ as she tried to comprehend what she was looking at into something more sensible.

She could only see its profile, but the tall metal….thing was human shaped, with two arms, two legs, and a rather ornate head. The body itself was long and slim, made up of dark twisted metals. As irrational as it was, Aine got the distinct sense that it was naked, or at least bare. In the fading light it looked both vulnerable and magnificent…and incredibly terrifying.

The receptacle finally yielded to gravity and fell from her hands, falling against the cement with a bang that sounded as loudly as cannon fire in a canyon.

The creatures head whipped around, and Aine was trapped under the scrutiny of its glowing blue eyes. The girl froze, a primitive part of her brain hoping that, if she stayed absolutely still and quiet, the creature would forget she was there and move on, and not squish her under its foot because dear god she wouldn't be able to get away if she ran and if it wanted to kill her it'd be so easy so easy can't runcan'trunohpleaseohpleasedon'thurtmeplease-

The creature slowly, ever so slowly, straightened to its full height, which pushing twenty feet at least, not that Aine was in the right frame of mind to be making accurate guesses. It held its hands up, and took a step back. Then another, and another, until suddenly it bent down and, with an accompany of clicking's and moving metals, electricity crackling over its entire frame, shifted from a twenty foot robot to a sleek car right before her eyes.

Wide eyed, Aine could only watch as the fake car drove away in the fading light and disappeared around the bend. She spent several long, silent seconds just staring at it, until her eyes sent up protests and she was forced to start blinking again.

Trash forgotten, Aine ran/stumbled back into the house, slamming the door behind her. Her shaky knees finally gave way and she sank to the floor against the door, her heart thudding so hard it was ringing in her ears. Her entire body was trembling, whether in fear or simply shock she couldn't say. Last but not least, her cognitive senses came back online.

"Oh. My. GOD!!"

* * *

Nolan was at the lake side for nearly two hours, and he was able to see everything that happened.

This amounted to a big fat NOTHING.

Sure, there was a small crowd, and the meteorite got a lot of attention, but nothing came of it. No one knew what had happened to it, whether anything was left, or even where it was. The officials that were combing the lake bottom were coming up with zip, zero, nada, and they were about to call it a night. Nolan was sure they'd be back in the morning, probably with more sophisticated equipment, but that was all the excitement for today, and he was going to have to hurry it up if he wanted to get back home before his dad and friends got there first. He couldn't deny feeling disappointed, but at least he had a little adventure, and Aine got to have some peace to herself for once.

Nolan stopped. This was weird; the trash bin was halfway down the driveway. If Aine was taking out the trash, why didn't she leave it on the curb?

Maybe she figured she'd empty the trash in the other rooms and was planning on coming back. He reasoned, though it didn't sit well with him. He entered the house a little more hurriedly than he strictly needed to, calling out "Aine? You there?"

Silence.

Feeling a mild panic beginning to rise up, Nolan came further in and raised his voice. "Aine? Aine? You ok? Where are you?"

"Kitchen."

Nolan released his breath in relief, and headed her way. "You had me worried for a sec Button, don't-"

Nolan stopped. Aine was putting the dishes away, but she was pale, gave no indication that she could even hear him, and her hands were trembling like leaves in a storm. As Nolan watched, the plate slipped from her weak grasp and shattered on the floor. Aine jumped in startled, and stared at the shards stupidly.

Now Nolan was _really_ worried. He took Aine by the shoulder and gently but firmly forced her to face him, to look at him. "Aine, this is gonna sound like a stupid question, but is anything wrong?"

"N-no, nothing's wrong, not really, I'm, I'm just tired is all." Aine said, after a second's hesitation. That hesitation spoke volumes to Nolan, and his mind went back to the trash bins.

"Aine, were you the one that left the bins on the driveway?"

The girl opened her mouth to speak, but nodded instead, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"Okay then. So why did you leave them there…" Nolan's voice trailed off, as a scenario built itself in his mind.

Aine was taking out the bins, but stopped halfway and came back inside. She was clearly upset, but didn't want to say anything. In Protective Big Brother World, that added up to one thing, and it made his gut twist until he felt like he was torn between being sick and being outraged.

"Oh my god. Aine, did some guy try to hurt you?" Nolan asked, his voice (unintentionally) taking on a sharp edge of anger that promised retribution of the most painful sort to the deserving one.

Aine blinked and, once she realized what Nolan was getting at, rapidly shook her head.

"No no no no, it's like that. Nobody tried talking to me or kidnapping me or…or something. I'm just a little tired, I haven't been sleeping well lately. Really, I'm alright." Aine offered up a weak smile and placed her small hands on Nolan's, which were still on her shoulders. "I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me, really."

Nolan was not convinced, but he was willing to back off for the moment. If she wasn't ready to tell him what had her so upset right away, fine. He could wait. He also made a mental note to double check that all the doors were locked tonight. Maybe even dead bolted, just in case Richard's extensive security systems picked tonight to fluke out on them.

And when Nolan finished pulling the trash bins to the curb so Richard wouldn't have an excuse to get mad at them, he kept a sharp eye out for any prowlers or potential predators hiding near his home.

* * *

_That certainly could have gone better, but I couldn't complain. At least the little organic hadn't panicked and started screaming. The last thing I needed right now was to have the entire community on before, before I could scan a vehicle for my disguise. _

_I lifted a hand to the com link in my head, hoping to be able to improve the reception if I fiddled with it. Loud static was my reward, and I quickly shut it off. No good. The rough landing had damaged it beyond my ability to repair._

_I had made my choice to avoid harming any locals, and I did not regret it - but I had forgotten to take into account the effect of going from the intense heat of reentry to the cold lake waters on my more delicate systems. In particular, my com links and, now that I had a moment's peace to perform a self-diagnostic, my scanners and ability to access the organics information systems. I couldn't contact anyone, I couldn't orient myself, and I didn't even know how to get to where I needed to go from here…wherever here was. I was, for all intents and purposes, blind, mute and, if I am going to be honest, lost. I could not even create a hologram to interact with the humans, having never been outfitted with an emitter._

_I fisted my hand, the only outward sign of my annoyance. I was close, so painfully close, yet so far away from where I had to be, from-_

_I could not let my thoughts wander there, lest I forget about the here and now. I was alive, in one piece and in relatively good condition. I would simply do what I have always done, and adapt. I have become quite good at that, if nothing else._

_If I was going to make it to the new Autobot base, I knew, I was going to need help. My options in that area, though, were slim. All I had available to me were the humans, but I could not just randomly pick one and hope for the best._

_I recalled the young female that saw me scanning the vehicle in front of her home. I have no doubt I frightened her, but she had remained calm and did not try to run or attack me._

_Perhaps I should try approaching her again._

* * *

**AN**: Since this is my first story, and I have to juggle school and work in the real world, I don't want to make any promises as to how often or how quickly I'll be able to update. But I'll try to be as timely as I can, and if this story is reasonably well recieved, I'll try even harder.

BTW, Aine's name is Irish, and it's pronounced "Awn-ye."


	2. Ch 2 A Mostly Civil Conversation

**AN:** Squeee! Eight reviews! I'm so happy I could melt into a happy puddle of goo right now (I sent messages to several of you to that effect, actually XD). I got to work on this chapter right away, I was so excited. Enjoy!

**Edit 10/28**: just fixed up a couple of errors and deleted a couple of lines that were left over from the rough draft.

Ch. 2 – A (Mostly) Civil Conversation

Aine's sleep that night was disturbed by images of impossible tall creatures of twisted metal and glowing eyes, and by the time her alarm went off at 6:30 she had already given up trying to sleep and had settled on just lying in bed and trying to rationalize what she saw. As she rolled out of bed and headed downstairs toward the kitchen, her mind kept on going in the same well tread circles.

_Okay, first: a large meteorite falls in the lake, which has yet to be recovered. Second, a giant robot-thing shows up on my doorstep, turns into a car, and disappears. Coincidence? Not likely._

Aine pondered that question as she raided the fridge for eggs and vegetables.

_Best case scenario, it's something the government made that got out, and they don't know it's here yet. That's 'best case' because it would mean there are people out there who know about it, and are doing something about to._

She set a pan on the stove and poured the oil to heat. _If it is some sort of secret government weapon, it still begs the question of why it was on my driveway admiring the cars in the first place._

Actually, that was probably the easiest question to answer. Richard valued his privacy, and with that in mind he bought a lake house that was as far from everyone else as he could manage. Just getting to the city was a chore, as buses were few and far between and on bike alone it would take nearly an hour one-way. For all she knew, it was just passing through what it had deemed a safe area and got curious.

Hold up.

Curiosity meant intelligence. Curiosity meant a certain amount of sentience. If it was truly sentient, then it seemed that less likely to have been made on Earth. Was it sentience that she saw?

Aine remembered how it had back away, hands held up in the universal sign of non-aggression, before it had practically run away from her, and for a second she felt like she couldn't breathe.

"E-even if it is, the real question is, what am I going to do about it?" She asked the empty kitchen insistently as she chopped up the peppers and mushrooms. "I mean, it's not like there's a hot line for lost secret government weapons or potential alien invasions."

Her knife stopped in mid chop.

Alien invasions.

Aine didn't know whether to laugh or be sick.

The knife fell from her hand onto the cutting board, and she felt her knees give way. "What am I supposed to do?" Aine moaned, sinking to the floor. She scooted backwards until her back hit the cabinets behind her and hugged her knees to her tiny body, suddenly feeling incredibly small and tight inside. "Who'll even believe me? Nobody else saw it, they'll all think I'm crazy."

Aine had a rare moment where she felt like cursing their home. In such a secluded area, there weren't any other witnesses to the creature's appearance.

"Probably why it was at my house in the first place." Aine muttered. Though, once she thought about it, it was surprising it had gotten as far as her home as it did, bypassing all the onlookers at the lake side. It must have gotten out of the water pretty quick to avoid detection.

"This isn't helping me!" Aine suddenly snapped at herself. She fisted her hands in her long curly brown hair, undone from the braids she usually kept it in as she slept. "The how's and why's I can worry about later, after I figure out the _who's_!"

Nolan.

Aine's hands relaxed. Right, Nolan. That was where she had to start. She wasn't sure he'd believe her (it was pretty incredible, she wouldn't blame any skepticism on his part), but if there was anyone that would take her side, it'd be him. She stood up again, still feeling shaky inside but already better that at least she had an idea as to what her first step should be.

The oil was hot now. Aine poured in the beaten eggs and they bubbled and popped.

Richard was the first downstairs, since he had to leave for work earlier than Nolan, which, fortunately, meant that she would be able to talk to him in private. By the time he made it to the table, Aine had, as always, his breakfast and coffee ready, with the morning paper next to it. Aine herself was back in the kitchen, cooking another plate of eggs for the next family member to come down.

Richard ate his omelet, drank his coffee, and read the paper in silence, not once sparing Aine a 'good morning' or 'thank you' for the meal. But Aine knew better than to expect one. The first time she made breakfast for him about two years ago, she tried to make it perfect because she'd thought he'd like it, that he'd appreciate the gesture…that he'd appreciate her. Richard DID like it, so much so he added it to her daily itinerary to cook for him every morning and have it ready by the time he came down.

Preparing all the meals was expected of her anyway, and had been for some time now. He wasn't going to spare any praise for her for fulfilling her obligations.

Nolan was coming down the stairs as Richard was leaving, and Aine slid his plate of scrambled eggs and toast onto the table, his preferred breakfast option. Unlike with Richard, Nolan didn't expect her to make his breakfast, and often insisted she didn't have to. She just did it because she wanted to.

"Morning Aine. Thanks." Nolan said, as he did every morning, sitting down as Aine finished it up with a glass of orange juice.

"No problem. You work hard all the time, you need the protein. Besides, you're too skiiiiiny!" She pinched his arm and shook it to prove her point, and Nolan laughed good naturedly.

It was normal, just so utterly normal, that what happened last night was feeling more distant, already, and Aine was beginning to reconsider telling Nolan about what she saw.

They chatted over eggs a bit, talking about nothing, Nolan eventually telling about what happened at the lake side (which was a short story) while Aine listened in rapt attention. Once Nolan's plate was nearly cleaned, Aine took a deep breath and gathered her courage before she leaned forward onto the table. "Nolan, remember you were asking me about last night?"

Nolan, sensing her sudden seriousness, pushed the plate aside and gave her his full, undivided attention. "Yes."

Drawing another breath and speaking quickly before she could lose her nerve, Aine told him everything: how she came across the creature, what it looked like, what it was doing, and how it transformed into a car and drove off. She described it in as much detail as she could remember, though really there wasn't much. When she was done she fell silent, letting her eyes fall as Nolan absorbed all that she had told him.

Something warm and dry was on her forehead, and she looked up to see Nolan holding a hand to his forehead as well.

"You don't seem to have a temperature," he mused. "You said you weren't sleeping well lately?"

"I didn't imagine it!" Aine exclaimed, moving her head away from his hand. "I know what I saw! I wouldn't just make this up!"

"I'm not saying that you are."

"Then believe me! I really did see a giant alien transforming robot!"

"…"

Aine just sighed and let her head fall onto the table top. "Okay fine, don't believe me. It doesn't matter anymore, it's already long gone. It's probably halfway to Jupiter or L.A. by now probably, not like anyone would notice it there."

"…Maybe I should stay home today. You work too hard, you need a break."

"Say's the boy with three summer jobs." Aine said wryly, tilting her head to give Nolan a smile with one eye. "I'm fine, you go to work. We'll talk again when you get home, okay?"

Nolan gave her an appraising look, as if debating whether or not she could be left alone. Aine let out a puff of air in mild annoyance. She loved her brother dearly, but his protectiveness could get stifling at times. "Really Nolan, I'm not gonna run around town with underwear on my head."

"Darn, I wanted to take pictures."

It took a little more prodding, but Aine was able to push Nolan out the door so that he could make it to work before his shift started. Literally.

"Alright alright I'm going!" Nolan pleaded, as little hands pushed against his back to guide him down the walkway. "Are you planning on pushing me all the way to Target?"

"Don't tempt me. It's very hard to run the citrus black market while you're in the house you know."

"Citrus black market?"

"You know how at international airports they always say 'no fruits?' That's my market, it's actually quite lucrative."

Nolan's oh so witty response was cut off by an unexpected sight: a vaguely familiar wine red sports car that looked obscenely expensive, sitting innocently in the driveway. Nolan recalled the guests last night, and tried to match them up to the cars they arrived in.

"Hey, doesn't that car belong to the Kerrs? What's it doing here?" Nolan wondered. The car was empty, and they hadn't bumped into anyone. Nolan started to approach the car. "Did Dad say anything about-"

Nolan was stopped by a tug on his shirt. Aine had gone from holding her palms flat on his back to fisting his shirt in a death grip, and when he looked over his shoulder he could see that her fair face had paled slightly, and she was staring wide-eyed at the car in terrified fixation.

Even if he didn't know the specifics, it didn't take a genius to put the dots together. And since the car was empty and they didn't see anyone…

"Aine, get back in the house." He ordered, scanning the surrounding area for unwanted visitors. Aine tugged on his shirt, staying silent. "Now Aine. If this guy scares you, I want you to go inside and call the police NOW."

"That will not be necessary; I have no desire to harm you."

The siblings jumped in unison, and Aine let out a little high-pitched yelp, coming even closer to Nolan and clinging to his shirt in fear. Nolan was holding an arm back, protecting the girl and whipping his head around trying to locate the source of the voice. He didn't recognize it, so it most certainly didn't belong to anyone in the Kerr family, at least no one he was familiar with.

Come to think of it, that voice sounded like-

"I apologize if I have frightened you." The voice went on, and the more the mystery voice talked the more it sounded like it was emanating from the (still empty!) car. "My desire was to talk to the young female behind you, but I had hoped that, with you here, she might feel more at ease."

"What the hell do you want with my sister?" Nolan demanded, easing her backwards towards the house, now that it didn't look like she was going to be releasing her vice-grip on his shirt any time soon. "Are you the one that freaked her out last night? Why is Aine going on about giant robots? Did you do something to her?!"

In spite of her fear, Aine still took a moment to feel a little miffed about being talked about like she was deaf or not present.

"I assure you that I have no desire to cause you or your sister any harm, and that I did nothing to her last light, as I'm sure she will attest to." The still unseen stranger went on. "I only ask for a little assistance. I came here because I believed your sister, who already knows of me, would be my best option."

"Assistance?" Aine said, coming out from around Nolan so he didn't entirely obscure her from view, but still being held back by one arm lest she get too close. She was still scared, plain to see from the slight tremble in her voice, but her natural (and in Nolan's mind, over-developed) sense of empathy was overcoming that. "What kind of assistance?" she asked warily.

"I…have found myself stranded far from my friends, with no way to contact them. I only need a little help, to orient myself so that I might make my own way to where they are?"

"You're lost and alone?" Aine translated, concern leaking through her voice. Nolan made an irritated sound at the sudden Disney filter in Aine's brain.

"This is all completely beside the point! And doesn't make any sense AT ALL!" He raised his voice to address the world in general, since the car was still very empty no matter what his ears where trying to insist on, and he was starting to feel stupid talking to it. "Look, I don't know who you are, or why you've got Aine going on about alien robots" (Aine frowned slightly) "but we're not doing anything else until you come out of hiding and talk to us face to face lady!"

Pause. "If I reveal myself, will it appease you?" The voice asked.

"It'd be a step in the right direction." Nolan said.

"…Very well. Please do not panic."

Nolan had enough time to think 'what?', and Aine to think 'uh oh,' before the car exploded.

That was Nolan initial thought, and he had actually tried to cover Aine and protect her from the flying debris, before he realized that the car wasn't exploding, it was _shifting._ With clicks and whirs the metal frame split apart and moved aside, making room for more complex machines to move and emerge, and as the twisting shifting mass of metal grey and red stood on two legs, Nolan had the thought that it wasn't just shifting, it was transforming from car to something else, just like Aine said it did.

The siblings stood still together, eyes wide and mouths agape in fascinated disbelief as the transformation finished itself, and the nearly twenty foot robot looked down with glowing blue eyes. She (for as insane at it seemed, it defiantly looked like a _girl _giant alien robot), kneeled down before them, bringing her head closer to their levels.

"I thank you for remaining calm. My name is-"

"GET IN THE HOUSE!"

Despite the robots protests, Nolan was already pushing his sister back into the house at record speeds, and Aine couldn't even squeeze in two words of protest before the door was slammed behind them and every lock and chain in place.

Not that it would actually do much good if the robot _really _wanted to get to them.

"Nolan, she wasn't going to hurt us." Aine insisted as her brother rushed past her, checking that all the door and closing the blinds. The red bot was actually trying to peer through one when Nolan pulled the curtains closed so hard it's surprising the fabric didn't tear right off.

"Not going to hurt us? Aine, it's a freaking GIANT ALIEN ROBOT!! What makes you so sure we can trust it?"

"She said she only needed help! She's lost and confused! She's not dangerous!"

"Fifteen minutes ago you were ready to hide in the basement! Now you're defending it?!"

"I didn't know anything about her! I was just freaked out, it was a mistake!"

"No, I think you're initial instincts were right on the money the first time around. So would you stop being so friggin' calm about this already?"

_Tap tap tap._

The pair were shocked into silence (which seemed to be happening a lot), before in unison they whirled their heads around to stare incredulously out the glass patio door. On the other side, they could see the robot, kneeling by the door, bent down so as to peer inside-

_Tap tap tap_

-tapping on the glass.

Nolan pulled the blinds closed, and the robot stopped tapping.

"Nolan? I think she knows we're still in here." Aine commented. Nolan either didn't hear her or was choosing to ignore her until she decide to panic properly, and Aine resolved to let Nolan calm down before trying again. While he made sure all exits were dead-bolted three times over she headed upstairs.

Aine's room faced the road, and the roofing led out to the sloping roof of the lower level. From where she was, she could see the robot, standing on the driveway, arms crossed and head lowered. Aine had a clear look at her face, and the expression she held was a mix of concern and frustration.

Aine lightly chewed her lower lip and contemplated the wisdom of her next action. Truthfully, the nameless robot still frightened her a bit, but after talking to her, seeing her emotions, and remembering her curiosity and how...human she almost seemed the night before, Aine couldn't bring herself to just leave her alone. Her conscience kept demanding that she'd at least give her a chance to properly explain herself.

Besides, this was a chance for humanity to make contact with an alien species. How cool was that?

Before she allowed herself to think about it too much, Aine opened the window and crawled out. The robot looked up at the sound of the window, and seemed slightly surprised to see Aine coming out. But she made no move to come any closer until Aine made a beckoning motion.

"It's okay. I won't run."

The robot waited a moment longer, but when Aine only moved to sit more comfortably with her legs drawn up, she took a few steps closer until she was leaning casually against the house. At her height, she and Aine were easily at eye level.

"I'm sorry about my brother." Aine started. "He didn't really believe me when I tried to tell him about what happened last night, so this is kind of a shock for him. He's a good guy, really, just protective."

"So I see." The former car said, with a little smile. Now that Aine wasn't in a blind panic or being shepherded away, she had a chance to take a good look at her unique guest, most notably her helm. It was quite intricate, with spikes and fins that pointed backwards in an aerodynamic fashion, reminding Aine of koi fish. Or a crown.

"It was not my intent to upset either you or your brother." The robot said, startling Aine out of her study. "For that, I sincerely apologize. There was little I could do to completely avoid creating a…disturbance."

"Its fine, it's fine." Aine said, waving it off with her hand. She stood, a little shaky on the slope but quick to regain her balance, and faced her companion. "We humans have a saying: third time's a charm. So let's try this again, one more time."

Aine flipped her hand around in a friendly wave. "Hi there, my name is Aine O'Connell. What's yours?"

The robot smiled, and ducked her head a little in polite greeting (or so Aine assumed).

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Aine O'Connell. My name is Elita One."

CLANK!

The robot – Elita – jolted her body backwards, one foot slight lifted, her expression one of surprised perplexity. Aine could hear more clanking sounds coming from the ground, and she carefully walked forwards until she was able to peer over the edge of the roof and see the source.

There was Nolan, attacking Elita's metal leg like a man possessed, armed only with a baseball bat (and not even one of those cool titanium ones, a wooden one).

"Get away from my sister!" He shouted, still banging at Elita's shins, though he had yet to leave so much as a scuff mark. Aine didn't know whether to be frustrated at her brother's one-tracked mind, or incredibly touched that he was prepared to fight off a giant alien robot single handedly to protect her.

"You're brother is very devoted to you." Elita observed, her arms crossed as she passively watched Nolan attack her shins the way a human might watch a Chihuahua attack their cowboy boots. "It is actually quite admirable. However, would you please ask him to cease his attack before he hurts himself?"

Aine stifled a giggle. "Sure. Hey Nolan! Nolan! NOLAN! Quit it already, we're just talking."

Nolan paused in his attack long enough to look up at Aine, breathing heavily from his recent exertion. He didn't say anything, but was warily glaring up at Elita. Aine sighed.

"Nolan, if she wanted to hurt us, don't you think she would have stepped on you by now?"

Stubborn silence.

"Look Nolan…you know what, just wait a minute, I'm coming down."

Aine started to turn to go back through her window and use the stairs, but had a better idea. "Elita? Could you give me a lift?"

Elita obliged, holding out her hand at the perfect level for her to sit, even curling up her fingers to prevent the little human from slipping off accidentally.

Nolan watched unblinkingly as Elita slowly lifted Aine from the roof and lowered her to the grass. Aine didn't make a sound, but her stomach was doing flip flops the entire time she was carried, feeling a bit like a baby bird in someone's hands. Once she was low enough, Aine slid off of Elita's palm, raised her arms and spun slowly around for Nolan's inspection.

"See? Not a scratch. NOW are you willing to believe that, just maybe, she's NOT planning on kidnapping and/or squishing us?"

Nolan hesitated a moment further, before he allowed the tip of the bat to gently lower to the grass, still holding it in a loose grip with his hands. "Maybe."

Aine beamed.

"I still say you're way too accepting of this Aine."

"It comes from reading a lot of science fiction and fantasy books. It builds up a tolerance for the weird." Aine explained brightly. "And now that we're all friends..."

She took a few steps forward so that she was evenly between her brother and her new friend.

"Nolan, this is Elita One. Elita One, this is my older brother Nolan."

"A pleasure." Elita said, bowing her head again. "Please, call me Elita."

"Um, sure, okay." Nolan said, now only holding the bat with one hand in his most relaxed stance yet. He stratched the back of his head with one hand, now looking a little sheepish. "Um, sorry about the freaked-out panic attack. I've never met a giant robot before."

"Think nothing of it. Your reaction was natural, I bear no ill will because of it. I am merely grateful that you did not call your authorities about me."

Nolan shifted on his feet in discomfort. "Yeah, about that. See, I kinda freaked out and called 911, asking them to send the army…"

Elita looked mildly alarmed, but Aine just laughed. "You told them there was an alien robot on our driveway? I wouldn't worry, there's no way they'd believe that."

"I didn't say it quite like that, actually. I don't even really remember what I said exactly, I was pretty frazzled. But see, there's this law or rule or something that 911 operators and response teams have to follow: any and all times they get a call, even if they're not sure what's going on, if they have reason to suspect theirs danger (like the sound of panic in the background)…"

The sound of high-pitched sirens drifted their way, and as one the three looked down the currently empty road where the sirens were coming from, still faint but growing louder in proximity.

"..they still have to check it out, just in case it's for real."

**AN:** Bet no one was guessing it'd be Elita, huh? Goodness, the entire reason I wanted to write a TF story in the first place was because I believe Elita is a secretly awesome yet undervalued and underused character who deserves to have her own story where she was more than just the romantic foil for Optimus. (How's that for a run on sentence?)

If you want to know what Movie-verse Elita looks like, just go to blacksirius./art/UPgrade-Delta-Elita-1-63993775. If you still can't find it, try searching for Upgrade Delta Elita-1. **BlackSirius'** picture was one of my inspirations to try a movie verse Elita-centric story. Throw in the inspiration via **Ray of Starlight** for the plot, and viola!

Incidentally, if anyone comes up with a better idea for a title, I'm all ears.

Till next time!


	3. Ch 3 Coming to a Decision

**AN:** Sorry it took so long to get this up, but I hope the length and density of this chapter makes up for it (it's going on 19 pages, twice as long as the first two!). Again, this little plot bunny was inspired by **Ray of Starlight's** fic "Twin Times the Fun," and has been written with her knowledge and blessings. Go check out her fic when you're done here. And again, if you want to know what movie-verse Elita looks like (at least in MY corner of the movie-verse), check out **BlackSirius'** picture at blacksirius./art/UPgrade-Delta-Elita-1-63993775 , but use your imaginations and change the pink armor to dark red.

Also, I'm looking for a beta to bounce these chapters off of, so if there is anyone out there who would like to volunteer, feel free to drop me a line!

Any and all reviews will be loved, constructive criticism will be appreciated, and flames will be laughed off.

And, since I forgot to include it the last couple of times…

**Disclaimer**: If Transformers were mine, characters like Elita would have gotten a lot more love.

Ch. 3 – Coming to a Decision

_10 minutes earlier_

"911, what's the nature of your emergency?"

"Send the army before it kills us!"

"I'm sorry sir, what?"

"- friggin' HUGE and big and red and I don't know what the HELL it's doing here-"

"Calm down sir, I'm tracking your location now, please take a breath and tell me what's going on. Is there an intruder in the house?"

"A big ass intruder! But it's not IN the house yet thank god, but I think it wants to come in it kept trying to knock on the windows, it said it wanted my sister…OH MY GOD! AINE!!"

A loud clattering sound as a cordless phone was dropped onto the tile floor, followed by running feet.

"Sir? Sir, please talk to me, what's happening? Is the intruder attacking your sister? Sir?"

The young operator stopped to listen, but all she could hear was the sound of indistinct but definitely panicked shouting, running, a slammed door, and then utter silence.

The operator may not have known exactly what had happened, but her training dictated that, if there was reason to believe there was a genuine emergency, even if she couldn't get the details, she had to put through the call to send at least a police cruiser and ambulance, just in case…

_Present_

"…Which is why we need to hide, like, _right now!_"

"Oh dear." Aine said calmly, as the sirens gradually grew in volume. Nolan, still coming down from his earlier freak out, was a bit less understated. He looked up at Elita and demanded "Shouldn't you be running into the woods or the lake or something?!"

"Not quite." With two steps she was on the driveway, and while the oncoming response team wasn't in sight yet, the transformer was painfully obvious to anyone standing within a hundred feet or so.

"What are you-" Nolan started to demand, but Elita was already ahead of him. With a melody of clicks and spins, she crouched down and became an innocent, albeit sweet looking, car again. Nolan shut his mouth, now feeling a little silly for forgetting what Elita had been in the first place.

Just as the last cog slid into place with a click, the police car rounded the corner, with an ambulance at its heels. Nolan and Aine, not sure what else to do, just stood and waited for them, Nolan's brain a-buzzing' with what he was going to tell them. Whatever he picked, it was going to have to give him a legitimate reason for calling 911 when everything was hunky dory now, unless he wanted to spend the next five plus years in a federal prison for prank calling them.

"So let me get this straight," the officer was saying, looking over the notes he had taken as Nolan had talked. "Aine here was outside, throwing away the trash, when a strange man appeared and tried to talk to her. This man was wearing a Halloween mask that resembled a red robot, and he was wearing a red sweatshirt, hence why you were shouting about that over the phone."

"Yes," Nolan nodded once. Currently everyone was in the house, and while the paramedic examined Aine for any injuries, Nolan was sitting next to her on the leather couch like a good little boy as he talked to the officer standing across from him. In the back of his head, Nolan found himself hoping that the officer's shoes wouldn't leave any dirt or black marks on the pristine white carpet. It'd be a pain to clean off if they wanted to hide any and all evidence of this little incident from Richard.

"The man was at least over six feet tall, probably six foot four, but you're not sure about the weight." The officer went on. Nolan nodded again.

"I'm no good at guessing that sort of thing," he added. "But he was pretty broad and muscular."

"You could tell he was muscular while he was wearing a loose sweatshirt?"

"Uh, well, when he tried to get in he had the door rattling pretty hard, so I'm guessing he was pretty strong," Nolan made up on the spot. The officer gave him an odd look before returning to the notepad.

"And while you were calling 911, the intruder managed to get in and was attacking your sister, at which point you dropped the phone to help her. That was when you grabbed the bat and attacked him."

"Yes."

"The operator mentioned she heard a door slam. Do you know what that was?"

"That was probably me slamming the closet door shut."

"There was a potentially dangerous intruder in your house, attacking your sister, you needed a weapon…and you took the time to make sure the door was closed?"

"I just slammed it, I wasn't thinking, it was just habit." Nolan explained, sounding more defensive than he wanted. The bat in question was currently leaning against the couch, and Nolan had no doubt it would find its way to the evidence room before the day was out.

"When you started hitting the intruder – on the back and shoulders – instead of trying to grab the bat from you or fight back, he chose to flee through the back door where he came in. You chased him outside but didn't pursue him, and Aine here followed you out because she was worried you would be hurt. Neither of you saw any escape vehicle, but instead he seemed to be running down the hill towards Lake Ontario."

"That's what it looked like to me. Maybe he had a buddy waiting for him with the car a little ways down?"

"There aren't any roads down there, beyond hiking and bike trails."

"Well, maybe he had a bike then."

"So you're saying that a strange man biked all the way out to your house, which is virtually in the middle of nowhere, from Rochester, an hour away BY bike…to break into your house while wearing a robot mask?"

"I'm only telling you what I saw!" Nolan snapped. "I'm not this guy's physiologist, how the hell should I know what he was thinking?"

"…Please stand up."

While Nolan tried to recite the alphabet backwards and walk a straight line to prove that, no, he wasn't high and/or delusional that morning, Aine was excused to call Target and inform the manager that Nolan wouldn't be coming in today. As a precaution, she also called the dry cleaners to let them know that there was a chance that Nolan wouldn't be able to work that afternoon either. Both were very understanding, and since Nolan was usually such a reliable employee, they were willing to let the short notice slide at least this once.

Once the officer was satisfied that Nolan was clean, and the paramedic was satisfied that neither of them were hurt nor needed to be hospitalized, everyone started meandering towards the door. Aine and Nolan stood together on the door step to watch them go (Nolan having a mild panic attack every time one of them lingered a bit too long by the dark red car), but the officer waited just a moment longer on the boardwalk.

"Just so you know, we're going to have a cruiser drive by tonight, in case the intruder comes back," he informed them, and while his tone was neutral Nolan suspected he still wasn't completely convinced there was one, or that he had the whole truth. That wasn't what worried him.

"Um, is that really necessary?" Nolan asked, not able to keep a slight tremor of nervousness out of his voice. "I mean, I don't think he'll be coming back after I beat the crap out of him." He tried to offer up a confident, cocky grin, but it came off looking a little painful.

Amazingly, the officer wasn't falling for Nolan's false bravado.

"It's standard procedure," he explained. He gave Nolan a suspicious look. "Unless there's a reason why you don't want it?"

Nolan froze briefly as he tried to come up with a viable answer. "Are you going to tell my dad about this?" he blurted out instead, so loud the officer (and Aine) actually reeled back a little in surprise.

The officer answered, "We won't go out of our way to inform the rest of your family of what happened. I'll leave that to you. Personally, I think you might want to talk to your parents about this before I, or another officer, come back. We might need to speak to you again, or to identify any suspects we might catch."

Nolan nodded, but inside he felt like banging his head on something hard, like the wall. Richard could NOT find out, it would just complicate things even worse. Having a giant alien robot on his driveway was complicating his life enough already, thank you very much. And it was only 8:40 in the morning; it was way too early for all this.

Nolan and Aine let out twin breaths of relief as the police car and ambulance finally disappeared down the long stretch of empty road and around the bend. With all foreign (human) presence gone, it became very quiet and peaceful. For a few seconds, everyone just stayed silent, listening to the wind rustle through the tall pines that surrounded the house, the occasional bird chirping unseen. It was all very peaceful, very soothing, while it lasted.

"I think that went pretty well, altogether," Aine decided brightly. Nolan groaned and combed both hands through hair, to release a small bit of his building stress levels (it was way too early for this).

"I'll believe that if we can get through today without Dad finding out about any of this mess. My god, I think the last hour just took ten years off my life."

The source of the mess spoke up, "Speaking of which, when will your parental units be returning home?"

"At the very earliest? About 5:30," Aine answered, moving closer to Elita. She wasn't sure exactly where to look when talking to a sentient car, so she settled on focusing her attention on the headlights. "Dad likes to go in early so he can finish and get off early, but he usually does his own thing first before he comes home, and he usually doesn't tell us first. He could be home as late as 9:30, though on a weeknight that's leaning toward the extreme. Usually, he's home by about seven, and we plan around that."

"It is still early, so time will not be an issue for now," Elita mused. "Do either of you having pressing matters for today? Nolan, I believe you were leaving for work before we met?"

"Was. Not anymore. Aine called in for me, and my bosses are good people, I'm good for today."

"In that case, might you tell me where I am and how far I am from-" At this point, Elita recited a long series of numbers that left the teens with blank looks.

"Um, as far as Point A, you're on the outskirts of Rochester, New York." Nolan said after a beat. "But I don't speak numeric, so I can't help you with Point B."

"My apologies. The locals call the nearest city 'Tranquility, Nevada.'" Elita clarified. Nolan and Aine's brows shot up.

"Nevada? Yikes, you're way off," Nolan informed her. "That's like, a thousand miles away, and unless you've got rocket boosters in the trunk, you're looking at a pretty hefty road trip."

"Oh…I see." Elita said, sounding the tiniest bit disappointed. She had known it would be difficult, but she hadn't realized just how far off course she was.

Aine, sensing that the general mood was heading south, quickly said, "Hey Elita, what are you anyway? I mean, aside from your name you haven't told us anything about yourself." Nolan looked at her in surprise, realizing that in all the commotion he had forgotten to be curious about Elita's origins as well. Now that his sister mentioned it, the curiosity was starting to eat his brain already. Elita let out a good natured chuckle.

"After all the trouble I have caused you already, it is the least I can do. Would either of you mind if I transformed again? I would feel more comfortable telling you about myself and my history in my true form."

"Don't worry, we won't panic," Aine assured the car with a smile. Nolan was less eager.

"Whoa whoa whoa, are you sure that's such a good idea?" Nolan interrupted. "I mean, what if someone sees you all robot-y?"

"Like who?" Aine asked, waving an arm to indicate the lonely location. "We're miles away from the nearest house, and with all the trees around here it's not like anyone will see her from a distance. I bet that's why Elita came up here in the first place, right?"

"Indeed. After I landed I needed to scan an alt mode, and your dwelling was close, isolated, had several options, and was seemingly empty. It was most ideal for my purposes."

"…Can we at least go in the back, just for my own peace of mind?" Nolan asked. The ladies were willing to comply.

Elita transformed again, and even after the third time it was still taking Nolan's breath away. Aine was covering her mouth with her little hands as she watched the complex yet effortless transformation, enthralled. Once Elita was in robot form again, she started to head around the house, with Aine jogging slightly behind and next to her. From his position behind them both, Nolan compared their heights.

Aine, he knew, was 5'2, and on a human body the lower leg too up about ¼ of a person's height if you excluded the body. Elita's form seemed to follow humans in that respect, or at least close to it, so using Aine as a reference he could better estimate just how tall exactly Elita was. It was a little hard to tell while they were moving, but Aine seemed to only come up to just slightly past Elita's knee. By Nolan's estimation, that would put Elita as being between 21 and 22 feet tall.

_Big girl,_ Nolan thought as he caught up to them.

And so the party moved to the back, with everyone making themselves comfortable on the grass, Elita sitting before the teens with her legs tucked under her, her delicate hands crossed on her lap and her back ramrod straight. Aine wondered if the formal position was out of habit, or out of respect for her hosts. Not wanting to risk embarrassing her or sounding silly, Aine kept quiet.

"Where to begin," Elita said with a thoughtful expression, thrumming the fingers of one hand against the back of the other.

As Elita gathered her thoughts, Nolan took the opportunity to get a good look at her, now that he was clear headed enough to pay attention. Even in robot mode he could see influences of the car she disguised herself with, with the tires here and the headlights there, but for the most part she integrated it so well she maintained a slim, streamlined frame of dark red, silver and occasionally green metals. More than that, something about her, something intangible that Nolan couldn't quite put a finger on, gave her an air of regality. Maybe it was the ornate helm she wore like a crown or the deep yet soothing voice she spoke with, or even just her perfect posture. Whatever it was, it was a quality that, Nolan suspected, made people shut and listen the moment she spoke.

Case in point…

Elita visibly came to a decision and the teenagers perked up in interest as she began. "As I told you, my name is Elita One. I am of a race of autonomous robotic organisms from the planet Cybertron, but you may think of us as Autobots for short…"

And so Elita told them a tale of an ancient war older than the human race itself between the Autobots and the Decepticons, a tale of betrayal and sacrifice, of despair and hope, of life and death…and extinction. She told of an ancient race, lost and scattered among the stars, made orphaned by their own war when they made their home world unfit for life, even robotic life. She told them of the Allspark, its power and its place in the war as both a prize and a source of hope, the only thing that could restore life to their desolate world, and held the power to end the war or push it to new heights, depending on which side found it first. She told them how, only recently, the ancient artifact was destroyed when it was used to end the life of the one who began the war in the first place with his endless greed and ambition: Megatron.

Nolan and Aine were in silent agreement that they were very, very happy they wouldn't ever have to meet the guy.

Elita also told them of the leader of the Autobots, the current Prime, who had come to this world before her with a handful of his finest officers (and scout). She talked about how, though he had been unusually young when he became Prime, he had been able to lead them through the worst of the war and bring them to the other side. He inspired genuine loyalty in all his soldiers, and fear tinged with respect in his enemies, and the more Elita spoke of him, the more her human audience found themselves wanting to meet him.

It didn't escape Aine's notice how, when the topic turned to Optimus Prime, Elita's voice took on a subtle yet definite fond tone, and her expression softened as she revisited her memories of the Autobot leader. When Nolan glanced over to his sister to see how she was absorbing this fantastic tale, he saw her clasping her hands over her chest with a starry-eyed smile on her face.

Nolan, being less perceptive than his romantic sibling, decided he didn't want to know.

When Elita finally finished her long tale, the sun had raised high in the sky, though it hadn't yet come close to its zenith. Nolan checked his watch and was shocked that the three of had been sitting there for nearly two hours. Didn't Elita ever get stiff sitting like that?! Not to mention that Aine was still in her pajama's and hadn't showered yet, though she didn't appear to feel embarrassed about it, assuming she had even remembered.

"So the Autobots are all coming to Earth, now that you can't go back to Cybertron?" Aine asked, shifting her legs around to keep the blood flowing. Elita nodded.

"I was supposed to arrive with my Division, but I had to separate from them to lead off a persistent group of Decepticons. We normally could have fought them off easily, but we had wounded with us, and all were tired from fighting, so I ordered them to move away while I distracted the Decepticons. I had dispatched the last of them when we received the transmission from Prime, about the Allspark and Earth. Since I was closer to Earth than I was to my Division, it was decided that I would continue on ahead, so that I could have Ratchet, Primes CMO, prepare to receive our wounded."

Aine looked mildly uncomfortable when Elita said 'dispatched,' but the female Autobot made no indication she noticed.

"So wait, if you're all coming here...just how many of you guys are there?" Nolan asked. Elita's glowing eyes dimmed in sadness.

"Before the war, our race numbered in the tens of millions. But we lack the ability to replenish our numbers as you humans do, and the war decimated our race. Now, I doubt there are more than two or three thousand Cybertronians left. Our home world itself is now dead."

Nolan felt the pit of his stomach give way as the silence hung heavy between the three of them, and Aine looked a mix between sick and horrified. They almost couldn't comprehend it: a race of millions down to a few thousand at most? It was just unbelievably mind boggling, that level of lost lives...

"But enough of the past." Elita said firmly, all trace of sadness gone as her eyes lit up brightly again. "We need to focus on the present now. I still require assistance if I am to return to my comrades without human detection."

Nolan didn't know if the abrupt change in subject was out of their benefit, Elita's benefit, or out of simple practicality, but he was grateful for it anyways. "Well okay. What else do you need, aside from directions and a map?"

Elita frowned slightly, her fingers drumming on the back of her hand again. The long silence was like a neon sign to Nolan, loudly proclaiming 'You ain't gonna like this!'

"I lack a holoemitter of my own, otherwise I would be able to create the illusion of a human driver, to interact with other humans as need be," Elita began (and Nolan was already getting a bad feeling about the direction this was going). "Even if I did, I fear I do not know enough of your cultural norms and laws to traverse your country safely and quickly. Optimus sent a great deal of information of your world in his transmission, including your languages," (oh, so that was how she learned English) "but it was not all inclusive, and I would rather not rely solely on that."

Ohhhhh boy. Nolan could guess where THIS was going.

"Wait, let me guess," he said, holding a hand up. "You," points to Elita, "want one of us," indicates himself and Aine, "to take you to Nevada?" points west. Elita nodded once.

"While I would appreciate the assistance, I will not push you for it. I understand I ask much of you, and you are both young."

"I'll do it."

Man and machine turned to look at Aine, the latter in light surprise at the ease of her decision, the former like she had sprouted a foot from the top of her head.

"What?" Aine asked. "Elita's asking for help getting to Nevada. I'm offering. Problem solved."

"No it's not!" Nolan cried out, throwing his hands in the air. Bringing them back down, he started ticking off his fingers.

"One: you're under sixteen, thus don't have a license. Ergo, you can't pretend to drive a car cross country. You won't even make it to the next city.

"Two: You're too young to be going off on your own. You're only fourteen years old, remember? Which leads me to

"Three: You've never been away from home before, let alone by yourself (no offense Elita). That's too dangerous for a young girl, even a smart one like you.

"Four: When Dad finds out, he's going to be P.O.'d at epic proportions." Enough said.

Aine opened her mouth to protest, closed it again, and then hesitantly said "Well, okay, if I can't go, then…?"

Nolan knew what she was thinking. "Uh uh. Sorry, I can't pick up and go either. I've got my jobs for one thing, Dad will still be mad if I left instead, and I'm sure as hell not going to leave you alone to deal with him when that happens." Aine's eyes widened fearfully as she remembered. Elita frowned.

"I do not understand." She said. "You fear being alone with your parental units?"

"Just Dad. Mom's not around anymore." Nolan clarified, with an air of finality. Their family dynamics wasn't something he wanted to discuss with anyone, let alone someone he just met (especially one that was a recently landed alien). Elita was tactful enough not to pursue her line of questioning, though she was clearly confused and now radiated palpable concern. Nolan shifted in his seat uncomfortably, part of him a little grateful that she cared, most of him hoping she would just let it go.

"What if we both go?"

Again, Aine was treated to the double stare, with the same expressions. "Okay, that's starting to get a little annoying," she complained lightly, crossing her arms in mock irritation. "Seriously, this way we can help Elita, and no one has to deal with Dad alone. We can take a Greyhound bus to get back or something, and so long as we pay for our own food and tickets, and get back before school starts at the end of August, Dad won't have any reason to stay mad. By the time we get back, I'm sure he'll have calmed down…somewhat. Or better yet, we can tell him that we're, I don't know, going on at brother-sister bonding camping trip, so he won't freak out too bad about us disappearing. I mean, barring unforeseen circumstances, we'll only be gone for a week tops, right?"

Nolan wanted to argue, tell Aine it was a Bad Idea. Not just a bad idea, a Bad Idea, with capital letters. He wanted to say it wasn't that simple, they couldn't just go ahead and go, but right then he couldn't even summon the energy to try. It had been a trying morning to say the least, and he'd had to jump through more hoops and absorb more all at once than Aine did. All at once, he just felt incredibly, mentally exhausted. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"Just…Aine, Elita, just let me think a little, okay? This has been a crazy morning; I need to let it all sink in a little more." Nolan lowered his hands and looked up at the Cybertronian. "Elita, you don't have to go right this minute, do you?"

"The sooner the better, but I do not need to leave immediately, no."

"So you can hang around a little while longer, right? At least long enough for me to wrap my mind around all this?"

Elita smiled warmly down at him. "Take as much time as you need, Nolan O'Connell."

"Thanks. I'll uh, I'll be in my room in case, y'know, you need anything. Oh and it's just Nolan. You don't need to tag on the family name when you're talking to humans."

As Nolan picked himself up and waddled into the house (since his legs had been falling asleep on him, the traitors), he could hear his sister, rather than follow him inside to get around to her shower and a change of clothes, strike up another conversation with their 'guest.'

"So, if you're Elita One, does that mean there's an Elita Two?"

Nearly another two hours later, Nolan was still sprawled on his bed, currently face down in his pillow (coming up for air as need be, of course). Through the open window he could catch snippets of Aine and Elita's conversation, mostly now dominated by the formers lighter, youthful tone, with the latter's deeper, smoother voice cutting in occasionally with a question or a comment. That was unusual, because usually when Aine was in a conversation with anyone other than Nolan, she'd listen quietly and let the other person talk as much as they liked about whatever they liked, never mind whether she was interested in that subject or knew anything about it.

Nolan's room was across from Aine's, so while hers looked out onto the street and driveway, his conveniently looked out to the yard and the lake. The last time he peeked out his window to check up on the two, Elita had relaxed her pose into a cross legged position, hands back to support her while Aine was perched on her knee, her hands moving with the story she was animatedly telling Elita. Even in a more casual position, Elita still exuded grace and sophistication, her dark red and silver frame gleaming in the sun. Her posture, he had noticed wryly, was still perfect, down to the ramrod straight back – did she used to be Auto-Royalty or something? It would just figure: not only did he have an alien robot in his back yard, he had an alien robot _warrior princess_ in his yard! It was almost enough to make him laugh.

As for Aine, even from where he was he could see how she was practically glowing with the personal and genuine attention she was receiving from her exotic audience. While Nolan wanted to be happy that she was happy, it left him with a feeling in his chest that he couldn't quite put a finger on. It wasn't a positive one, that much he knew.

Nolan rolled over onto his back, draping one arm across his eyes as the other spilled over the side of his bed, his mind still going through the same well worn circles it had been going through for the last hour, just as Aine's had a mere few hours ago.

On one hand, he had an _alien robot _hanging out in his backyard asking for his help. Other than being completely insane and coming straight out of a sci-fi movie worthy of Spielberg himself, in the real world it was also asking for trouble. He's seen the movies; he could probably come up with a dozen different scenarios of what could go wrong in one sitting. Besides, what he said before still held true: he couldn't just up and leave, he had his jobs, and he had to think about what was best for Aine (which he was pretty sure didn't include going on an impromptu road trip with an alien car and no idea of what they were really getting into).

On the other hand, he had an alien robot hanging out in his backyard asking for his help. The thought of letting Elita go just like that, with the distinct possibility of never hearing from her or seeing her again, was already tying his stomach into knots. This was easily the most amazing thing to ever happen in his life, probably will be for his entire life. No matter how logical he tried to be about it, a part of him was screaming at him to not let it pass him by like this. He, very simply, probably selfishly, didn't want to just let her leave his life as abruptly as she entered it.

Either way, it all came down to what was best for Aine. Whatever he thought of Elita, his sister was his first priority. Either they both stayed, or they both went. Those where their only options.

"Dammit, what am I supposed to do?" he groaned to the empty room. "No way Dad's gonna give his permission to let up go on a fake camping trip or whatever, so if we go we'll have to sneak off to do it. So even if it all goes great and we don't get so much as a speeding ticket, and take the first bus home or whatever, after we get back Dad is going to be pissed beyond all reason. Probably beat the crap out of me or kick me out of the house, or both. He might even take it out on Aine this time; this'll be the closest to a real act of defiance she's ever shown."

The thought of Richard laying a hand on his sister was enough to sicken and enrage him, and he slammed a fist on the mattress in frustration. "Dammit, the problem with going is that sooner or later we'll have to come back. It's not like we can STAY in Nevada forever!"

Hold up.

Nolan sat straight up as his epiphany washed over him. If the only problem with going was coming back, then…

"We won't come back," he whispered.

Yes, yes, maybe they could do that. He'd been working his butt off for, what, two and a half years now? Saving every penny he could, just so he could have a nest egg for when he moved out after high school and take Aine with him. But he had always feared that, even if he got that far, Richard would come banging at his door and guilt Aine into coming back. And she, being the dutiful daughter she is, eventually would.

But if they went with Elita, Richard wouldn't be able to track them down (no trail, right?), and he'd never think to look so far out west. And once they got there, Nolan could get a job, several jobs if he had to, and Aine could enroll and finish high school there. He was turning eighteen in September, next month, so he'd be a legal adult. He wouldn't be able to finish high school, but he could live with that. Maybe he could get his diploma at a later date, after Aine was taken care of. It could work, it could work, it could –

"It'll never work!" Nolan exclaimed in frustration, falling back on the bed again. "It'll work just fine, up until Dad accuses me of kidnapping my own sister and sics the feds on my ass. Dammit, I'm right back where I started!" He rolled over on his side, his self anger bleeding away. "I can't do that. I've got to do what's best for Aine, and I'm pretty sure up and moving to Nevada like this isn't quite it."

But was staying there any better?

Nolan laid there quietly for a few seconds, his mind going back in time to nearly five years ago. Finally he got up, and headed straight for his book case on the far wall. On the top shelf, to the far left, was a well-worn paperback entitled Jeremy Thatcher, Dragon Hatcher. When he was in the fifth grade, his school had held a book sale to raise money for something or other, and his mother had bought this particular one for him. It had become his favorite book as a kid.

Carefully, almost reverently, he eased the worn book from its niche, and let it fall open naturally in his hands. As always, it opened in the very middle and, as always, tucked between the darkened and slightly torn pages that marked any beloved book, was a folded piece of paper and a photograph. Opening the paper as carefully as if it were made of delicate lace, he traced the well worn fold lines as his eyes followed the delicate writing, though he knew it by heart after reading them hundreds of times.

_Nolan,_

_By the time you find this, I hope you have come to understand that I'm not coming back. I'm so sorry to leave you like this love, but I just can't stay any more. I'm tired sweetie, I'm just so, so tired, and I can't do this anymore. I don't have anything left to give. I pray that someday, you'll be able to forgive me._

_Take care of Aine for me. She needs you more than ever now._

_I love you,_

_Mom_

Nolan closed his eyes as memories bubbled up. He had been 13, Aine 9. Christmas was coming, and they had made plans to visits Mom's family out of state for the first time in two years. They had all been so excited, and Mom had been happier and more energetic than she had been in months, a welcome and comforting change to the increasingly listless, tired woman she had been before. But a few days before they were to leave, Richard came down with a bad cold, and felt so miserable he didn't want to go anywhere. And if Richard didn't want to go, then no one got to go. Nolan had overheard his mother pleading with Richard to at least try, that she'll do all the driving while he rested, that she missed her family and wanted to see them, but Richard wouldn't hear it. It was all about what was convenient for him and him alone. After that, all the energy seemed to drain out of her. Christmas day came quietly, and in the depressed and bleak mood set by the irritable Richard and their listless mother, no one could summon the energy to be cheery about it. That night, after everyone was in bed, their mother walked out the door and never came back.

Nolan wouldn't find the note in his book until four days later. He never told another soul about it, not even his sister, though he tried to several times. But every time he resolved to share it with her, his throat would close up and choke the words. So it remained his and his alone, to this day.

Nolan opened his eyes and looked at the second hidden item, the photograph. He remembered when it was taken. He had been nine years old, Aine six. It was summer, and they were taking a vacation in California, spending most of their time by the beach because Mother loved the ocean so much. Richard had been more accommodating back then, nicer to them, even laughed and played with them. He had taken this picture of the other three members of the family, laying out in towels as Aine played in the sand and Nolan was covered in sunscreen, looking adorably (he could admit now) disgruntled as his mother only laughed, her face practically glowing.

Nolan lingered on her face, and not for the first time was struck by how much Aine took after her, something that became more and more apparent as she grew older. In face and form, she was her mother's dead ringer. But more than just a physical resemblance, she had inherited their mother's personality, her generous spirit and desire to please others and seek other's happiness before her own, and her ability to accept others whole heartedly without prejudice. That she was currently shooting the breeze with a giant alien robot was testament to that.

Richard was already greedily taking everything his sister could give and still demanding more. How much longer could little Aine last before she had nothing left and was crushed too?

"Hey!"

Aine and Elita looked up at Nolan from his window, their discussion of parkways and driveways put on hold.

"I changed my mind. Aine and I will both go with you."

"Really? You want to come?" Aine couldn't keep the excitement out of her voice, and even Elita looked pleased. Nolan nodded.

"But we should probably leave ASAP, by tonight if we can, before Dad gets back. Aine, get dressed and start packing. Assume it'll take…uh, two weeks. The round trip probably won't actually be that long, but better to be prepared."

Aine squeaked and slid off of Elita's knees, hurrying into the house. Nolan watched her from his vantage point.

"I appreciate this Nolan, but I do not believe it would be wise to leave before your father returns home," Elita's voice broke through Nolan's reverie. He looked at her, now standing with her arms crossed, with an expression of faint disapproval. Nolan shrugged.

"Easier this way," he explained. "I'll leave him a note so he doesn't report us missing or whatever, it'll be fine. This way, I won't have to argue with him about whether we can go or not, when it's not really an option."

"Your sudden departure will require more than a simple note," Elita insisted as she moved a little closer to the window. "Speaking of which, I must admit to curiosity as to what changed your mind. Why are you so eager to leave so quickly?"

Nolan didn't think 'I'm planning to drop out of high school and use you to run away from home' was going to fly too well. Somehow, he didn't think she'd approve.

"Aine's the kind of person who wants to help everyone, and frets about it when she can't," Nolan said instead. "If I said no, we have to stay, she'd worry and fret about you for the rest of her life or until you dropped a line, whichever happened first. At least this way she'll have peace of mind, and we can get out of the house before summer ends. Besides," he added with a grin, "how many people get to go on a road trip with a bona fide alien? This is just too cool to pass up." It was the truth, as far as it went, he just omitted that it had not been a part of his decision making process.

"As for the short notice…" he continued, "well, I'm the kinda guy who likes to follow through on his decisions quickly. If I decide I'm gonna do something, I go ahead and do it, no dilly dallying. Besides, you said you wanted to meet up with the other Autobots as soon as you could, right?"

"True. But we need not leave before you have a chance to speak with your father."

Nolan fought of an irritated frown. "Look, it's not a big deal, and I REALLY don't want to have that conversation with him. It'll be…ugly and no fun at all."

"Regardless, I feel I must insist you speak with him. He deserves to know what you are doing and that you'll be back, and to be told this to his face rather than on a piece of paper."

"Tell my dad I'm helping an alien robot?"

Elita gave him a look, and he had the urge to shrink back, already regretting his smart ass comment. He also realized that he wasn't going to win a battle of wills against a soldier who was at least several million years old.

"If I promise to talk to Dad tonight, will it make you happy?" he asked.

"This is not about me, Nolan. This is about your father. Even if you cannot tell him the truth about me, he deserves a proper parting."

_You wouldn't be this concerned about his feelings if you knew what he was really like_, Nolan thought bitterly, but he held his tongue. She had no way of knowing better, and he could tough it out one more night if it meant his, and Aine's, ultimate freedom.

"Right then, I'll wait until he gets home and let him know that Aine and I are going on a camping trip with some friends who happen to own a really nice car. But before that, could you take me to the bank? We're gonna need some cash, and since I don't know when exactly Dad will be back, I need to withdraw the money before it closes."

Elita gave him a long look, and then uncrossed her arms. "Nolan," she said gently, "is there anything you are not telling me?"

Nolan felt his heart skip a beat. "Uh, no. Why?"

"I get the feeling there is more to this than you are telling me."

Nolan shook his head, silently cursing the alien's perception. How is it, after only a handful of hours of human interaction, Elita had already learned how to read humans so well?!

"Look, it's nothing you need to worry about, okay? If I think of anything that you need to know, I'll say it, alright?"

Elita was silent a moment, then nodded her head once in acquisition. "Very well. I shall respect your privacy."

Nolan restrained the urge to breathe out to heavily in relief. "Thanks. Now, about that bank trip…?"

_10:45 pm, the previous night, in Tranquility, Nevada_

"Optimus, I think you'd better take a look at this."

Optimus looked up from the monitor he had been examining himself, currently displaying a map of the surrounding desert. Currently the Autobots were making their home in an old military air base out in the desert, about an hour and a half drive away from Tranquility, where Sam and Mikaela were. It wasn't the greatest of bases they'd had, but it was the best the government could come up with on short notice while keeping the existence of NBE's a secret from the general public. In the months following the Mission City attack, they had greatly improved their abode, and had begun plans on expansion in anticipation for any other Cybertronians that answered Optimus' call. The Prime had been doing just that actually, when his Chief Medical Officer spoke up.

"What is it Ratchet?" he asked, lumbering over to where the Topkick was. The smaller autobot looked up at his commander with an expression of cautious confusion.

"Scanners picked up two unknown pods entering the atmosphere, one landing in Lake Ontario, the other closer to the national border but in the same area."

Optimus reared his head back slightly in surprise. These new arrivals would be the first to answer the call to Earth, and should have been a cause of celebration. And yet…

"Unknown, you said?"

Ironhide nodded. "They didn't hail us, and the scanners couldn't pick up their transponder codes. We have no way of knowing who it is, or even which faction they're from. The only reason the scanners picked them up at all was because the computer was on the lookout of large bodies entering the atmosphere over the North American continent."

The lack of transponder codes was the true surprise. Each Cybertronian had a unique code, as integral to their systems as a fingerprint was to a human. Since the source of said code was located in each Cybertronian's CPU, they were even harder and more dangerous to get rid of. Since it was difficult to perfectly replicate another's codes, they were used to confirm and identify allies, and were seen as a safety precaution. More than that though, they were viewed as something personal and private to each Cybertronian, and while they could be masked to hide one's presence (a skill every spy developed) to have them removed was seen as an act of violation a step or two above invading another's very spark, and not something most would willingly do.

But a pod traveling through space had no way to completely mask their code; it simply wasn't possible in such a situation. The only other explanation as to why their transponders were silent, were if they had had their codes removed. The thought of such a procedure, or head injury that could do the same, was sickening to most.

Sickening to Autobots at least. The Decepticons, in attempts to make their spies harder to detect, have been known to be less scrupulous.

"What are we going to do about this Prime?" Ratchet asked. "If they are Decepticons, they are a threat to any humans they come across. We cannot ignore this." Prime frowned for a moment in thought.

"We do not know for certain that they are Decepticons. Wait until morning; give them a chance to send a message. They could be damaged, or simply too drained to do it immediately. If they do not make contact by then, I will choose two mechs to go out at meet them, starting with whichever is closest. We cannot do much else until we know for certain whether they be Autobot or Decepticon. Perhaps then we can discover why they are lacking transponder codes."

"Do you think it's wise to wait? They could harm the local humans between now and then."

"To do so would involve revealing themselves, and they will not risk gaining the attention of the military."

_At the same time, in New York state, near the Canadian border_

In the quiet stillness of the night, in the middle of a forest, was a smoking crater surrounded by broken trees and small fires, held in check only by the ground left moist from the rainfall earlier that day. A young wolf, curious, fear gone now that nothing else seemed to be happening, cautiously approached the pit. Suddenly, a huge, clawed, metal hand reached over the edge, and grabbed the poor creature around the neck.

The wolf tried to fight back, squirming and growling and trying to bite, but it was all in vain. The giant would not relinquish his hold.

With a mighty heave he lifted his body out of the crater, a fearsome red eyed giant. He distastefully eyed the doomed, struggling creature in his hand, and as he recalled his lost quarry, he closed his hand around the flesh creature. The more he thought, the angrier he got, and the tighter he squeezed.

So close, he had been so close, and his quarry slipped away from him at the last moment. Slag it, she managed to elude him even when she didn't know she was being tailed! But there wouldn't be any more slip ups from here on out, oh no. No matter how cleverly she hid, he would track her down, no matter what.

"I'm not letting you get away this time, Elita One," he growled, and he felt the little flesh creature's ribs and spine snap and crack in his hand, organic liquids dripping between his fingers.

xxxxx

**AN**: if anyone's wondering why I made Elita so tall, it'll be explained in the next chapter when I reveal what kind of car she transforms into. I wanted to put it here, but I couldn't find an appropriate place to do it. If you're wondering what the deal is with Elita's transponder codes, well, all will be revealed in due time.

Nolan is 3 ½ years older than Aine, just so ya'll know.

Also, while Ratchet is noticing the planet fall close to 11, recall that they're in a different time zone than Elita and the kids. So for the O'Connells, she landed a little before 9.

BTW, I'm allowing anonymous reviews now (I hadn't even realized I had them disabled before 0.0). I know I'm opening myself up to flames and spammers, but I don't feel good about excluding certain readers. Plus, I'm something of a review junkie. hint, hint

Also, does anyone know how to put in those line breaks? I'm getting tired of just using x's.

See you next time!


	4. Ch 4 Meeting of Minds

**AN**: Phew, I've been pushing these chapters out like crazy, haven't I? That's because I've been planning out this story for several weeks now, so I already know what I wanted to do with it. But after this, I'm going to have to slow it down to every week or two. I didn't realize how exhausting it is to put out chapters so quickly!

Speaking of which, this chapter did NOT want to be written. I've come to learn that it's a lot easier to write with cannon characters when you use the ones hardly anyone else does. .

A quick shout out to **Ridel**, for pointing out to me that Aine was slipping into Mary-Sue territory (thank you!). I'm trying to correct that with this and subsequent chapters.

Disclaimer: Transformers belong to Hasbro, the movie belongs to Michael Bay, and I haven't been able to talk either of them into giving me the rights to either. Bummer.

* * *

**Ch. 4 –Meeting of Minds**

_Washington, 12:03 am, the previous night_

Defense Secretary Keller laced his fingers together as he rested his elbows on his desk as he digested what he had just been told.

"You're telling me that we have two unknown Cybertronians, recently landed in New York, and you can't even tell whose side they're on?"

"Unfortunately, no," Optimus deep baritone confirmed over the speaker phone. "Without their transponder codes, they are invisible to our long-range scanners. We cannot locate them any more than we could locate a certain car without its license plate numbers."

"Well that's just perfect," Keller muttered. It was the middle of the night, Keller was in his home office so as not to disturb his still-sleeping wife, and he could already tell it was going to be a bad day. He almost regretted ordering his department to patch any and all urgent calls from the Autobots to his home phone. Why couldn't these things happen at a less god-forsaken hour?

"Do you think they're Decepticons?" Keller asked.

"A possibility, but we cannot confirm that," Optimus answered. "If they do not attempt to make contact with us by morning, I will send two Autobots to track them down. Secretary Keller, we will need your help in this matter."

"Gotcha. We'll keep our eyes and ears open towards that area, in case one or both make an appearance, and we'll let you know if and when anything happens. Hopefully before they destroy anything," Keller added the latter statement under his breath.

"Thank you Keller." Click, and the Prime was gone.

Keller spared a moment to rub his temples at this newest headache, before reaching for the phone again. True, nothing had happened and it wasn't a crisis yet, but with so little confirmed data it was the next closest thing. Before it had a chance to get that far, he was going to have to call upon his newest division to handle this.

While Sector 7 had been officially dissolved by the President after the battle at Mission City, the continued presence of the Cybertronians necessitated an organization dedicated to keeping their new hidden allies hidden. Such an organization was quickly assembled, and became a branch of the National Defense, and thus reported to Keller directly. No more secrets.

However, to create the branch quickly, it proved prudent to recruit from the ranks that already knew of and had experience with the NBE's, rather than bring in a new generation of fresh bodies and allow the secret to spread out even further that absolutely necessary.

The phone only rang twice before it was answered by a male voice that was far too alert and crisp for that time of night. "Banachek here."

"Tom, we have a situation," Keller began.

* * *

_Present_

Having Elita take him to the bank had seemed like a good idea at the time. It was faster, easier, and, considering he was coming home with an envelope full of cash, safer. He had not, however, anticipated just how much attention the red car would draw.

"Couldn't you have scanned something a little less conspicuous?" Nolan groaned, tempted to sink down in the driver's seat until he disappeared, never mind that the windows were tinted and the pedestrians couldn't actually see him anyway, thus negating the point of hiding. They had stopped at yet another red light, and half the pedestrians and other drivers were staring at them again. Nolan didn't know enough about cars to know what exactly Elita's alt mode was, having left the room when Simon Kerr took the time to brag about his own, but really, he should have realized that a vehicle that looked like the love child of a sports car and a limo was BOUND to get some attention.

"I needed an alt mode that had about the same amount of mass that I did," Elita explained patiently yet again. "This mode was my best option, as it was the largest one available."

Nolan thought he might cheerfully strangle Simon if he ever saw the man again.

"Actually I lied," Elita said suddenly. "I deliberately picked the model I knew would cause you personally the greatest amount of annoyance. Also, I like the color."

Nolan blinked at the completely out-of-the-blue confession before he started snickering. He let his forehead fall forward until it was resting on the steering wheel. "You are so weird," he stated with a grin.

"I aim to please," Elita responded, and Nolan could have sworn that she was smirking on the inside.

The bank was unusually busy that day, so while Elita waited in the parking lot, Nolan got to wait in line with only his thoughts for distraction. Unfortunately, they were quite merciless.

_You're nuts, you know that? This 'plan' of yours (and I'm using that word in the loosest way possible) has more holes than a colander. How are you gonna register Aine in a new school? How're you both gonna survive? Where will you live?_

_I'll figure out the school thing later. _Nolanretorted_. Maybe she can do the home school thing instead, if the administration asks too many questions. And I've got about 4000 saved, plenty for a small apartment and groceries for a few months, if we spend carefully. That'll give me lots of time to find jobs. I'll work full time to support us both._

_Full time? You're gonna be a runaway high school dropout, who the heck is gonna hire you full time?_

_Fine, then I'll be a full-time part-timer, and work my way up through one of them! Besides, just because I'm not gonna finish high school this year, doesn't mean I can't get my GED later. Besides, I'll be 18 in a month, a legal adult, so it's not like anyone will be able to stop me. I'll make it work._

_What about when Richard figures out you're not coming back? At the least, you'll both be reported missing, but I wouldn't put it past him to accuse you of kidnapping your own sister. If that happens, you'll never be able to give away your social security number, or the feds will be on you like white on rice. Oh wait; don't most jobs REQUIRE a social security number?_

_I'll figure it out, okay?! I've still got time, I'll figure it out!_

Nolan's internal monologue was cut short, as his turn at the teller window came up. He steered himself for whatever reaction his request was bound to call up.

"You want to withdraw **everything** in your money market AND checking account…in cash?" the teller repeated slowly, as if making sure that Nolan knew what he said. The boy gave a curt nod.

"Yeah."

"Wow. You switching to the mattress account?" the teller tried to joke, but it died a horrible death at Nolan's stony face. The teller only quietly handed him the white envelope, and his business done he was quick to hurry out the back to where Elita was waiting, feeling horribly obvious with his life savings in an inauspicious envelope. It didn't help that his ride home had drawn a small crowd again.

"Hey! Hey people, mind letting me through?" he said, pushing his way past the onlookers and not caring about politeness. _I've GOT to talk her into scanning a Camry or something on the way out, _he mentally grumbled_._

Still, he mused as he slid into the driver's seat while ignoring the shocked looks and one persistently curious one ("Dude! Is that YOUR car??"), it could have been worse. Elita could have picked the Parkinson's Lamborghini. More people knew what a Lamborghini looked like than a…whatever Elita was, and Nolan suspected such a car wouldn't be able to go more than 20 feet without turning heads. That would pretty much doom his sneak-off-quietly-and-quickly-plan.

"So you deliberately picked the most conspicuous car you could just to annoy me personally?" Nolan asked as they pulled out.

"Yes Nolan, yes I did."

* * *

_Nevada, Autobot Base, 8:55 am_

"So let me get this straight," Ironhide said. "We have two unknown Cybertronians on the other side of the country, neither of has attempted contact, and because they don't have transponder codes they might as well be invisible to our scanners. Frankly, this reeks of Decepticons. What reason do we have to even _entertain_ the possibility that they might be Autobots?"

"Only that we have no confirmation that they are Decepticons," Optimus answered. He had Ratchet had waited the entire night for a comm., a message, even just a ping to let them know that someone on the other end was an ally, but communications had remained silent. Now that it was morning, the Prime had just debriefed his crew of last night's happenings, including the recently resurrected Jazz. "Until we know for certain either way, I will choose to err on the side of caution."

"The government will be sending us any and all information they can get of these newcomers," Optimus went on, addressing the entire group. "Until then, Jazz, Bumblebee, I'm sending you both to New York to track these mechs down. We may not know their exact location, but we know their general area. It's the only place we can start, and you two are the best chance we have of finding them. However, this is strictly reconnaissance. You mission is to find out who they are, and if they are Autobots, why they have not contacted us. If they are Decepticons, you are not to engage without my orders."

Bee raised a hand. "If this is going to be strictly reconnaissance, could we bring Sam and Mikaela? They can help us by talking to locals, getting eye witness accounts."

"Would definitely make our job easier, seeing as how we're gonna be looking for a couple of needles in a haystack blindfolded," Jazz added. "An' I know Mikaela at least has been itchin' to get outta Tranquility at least once before summers over. Might be good for them. Don't worry; we won't let 'em get so much as a bruise."

It didn't take a tactical genius to figure out why his scout and First Lieutenant were asking for the teenagers rather than Captain Will Lennox. Mikaela had acted as Ratchets assistant in repairing his chassis after Megatron tore him apart, and had been instrumental in getting him repaired in such a short time. Ever since Jazz came back online with the help of the Allspark fragment, he's become attached to the female human. Bee and Sam, well, that was self-explanatory. He knew Jazz and Bumblebee would protect the humans with their lives, but he nearly forbade it because of the danger it presented. Still, they made good points: they needed to find these newcomers as quickly as possible, and since their scanners weren't going to cut it for this situation, they were going to have to rely on other avenues.

"If their guardians approve, then you may bring the humans, Bumblebee," Optimus said at last, and Bee and Jazz both beamed. "However, remember that you are not to engage or fire first, if these new ones are Decepticons. If you are going to be bringing the humans, caution will be paramount."

"Yes sir."

"Gotcha boss bot."

"Good. Transform and roll out."

* * *

_Rochester, later that day_

Packing for the trip proved to be a little more complicated and took up most of the day, with a short break for lunch (courtesy of Pizza Hut, since Nolan wanted Aine to focus on packing rather than cooking and cleaning). While the humans packed, Elita mostly kept a look out for Richard, especially as the morning gave way to afternoon. Along with the stress that went with the last-minute packing for a long-term trip, the ordeal was further complicated by the fact that Aine expected to be back within a week or two tops while Nolan had no intention of coming home or letting Aine in on his little plan yet.

"Nolan, have you seen my…Nolan, are you trying to stuff my entire closet in that bag?"

"Not that weird dog sweater. Seriously, that thing must die; preferably horrible fiery death."

"…Why?"

"Have you SEEN that sweater? I can live with the googly eye basset hound, but not the puke green and orange color scheme, sorry."

"No, I mean, why are you trying to pack my entire closet?"

"You packed too lightly. Better safe than sorry and all that. Now you're prepared in case we take longer than we expect, or you lose something, or rip something, or it's rainy or chilly."

"Chilly? Nolan, it's the middle of August and we're going to Nevada, which is in the desert. Besides, can't we just wash our clothes sometime between here and there?"

"Deserts get chilly at night, ya know. And Laundromats cost money."

"Nevada. August. Two weeks tops. 50 cents a load."

"Humor me, Aine. I'll even carry the bags."

Then there was the matter of supplies, since Nolan wanted to save every penny he could for when they got there rather than spend it on frivolous items like food.

"Nolan, I know you want to save money, but do we really need 14 cans of beans? Come to think of it, why do we even HAVE so many cans of beans in the first place?"

"It was cheaper to buy in bulk. We've had them for awhile actually and now's a good time to make us of them."

"But _fourteen_ cans? You don't even LIKE beans!"

"Don't worry, we won't be surviving off beans the entire trip. You like Spaghetti-O's, right?"

"Lemme see that bag, Nolan…"

"Hey, give that back!"

Of course they were careful not to forget about Elita, seeing as how she was the one who was ultimately going to be carrying their luggage. They opened nearly all the windows so that they would be able to talk to each other easily, and pulled all the blinds open so that she could observe their progress and make comments about how much she would be willing to take. Elita, being able to see and hear everything now, took full advantage of it.

"Nolan, I understand you wish to be prepared, but I fail to see why you would need more than one or two bags apiece."

"Well, we might want to hang around for awhile after we get there, meet the other bots, see the sights. I just wanna keep my options open, in case it turns into an extended visit or something."

"You cannot wash your clothing there, or purchase food?"

"Laundromats and food stores can get really expensive Elita, and my cash is kinda limited right now. Besides, I've already gone over this with Aine, it's all cool."

"I…see. However, I must insist you limit your baggage count to less than five bags a piece. I may be an advanced machine, but not so advanced so as to have a limitless interior."

"…Fair enough."

"Also, you need not bring portable shelters. My alt modes interior will be more protective and comfortable for you two, and so long as you limit your luggage, it is also spacious enough for you both."

"But won't that be weird? I've never slept in a living car, and I'm gonna guess you've never had organisms making themselves comfy in your insides." Pause. "Okay, that's starting to give me creepy visuals here…"

"I feel no discomfort. In fact, I would feel better if you would make us of my offer, as I know I will be able to keep you both safer that your portable shelters will."

"Tents, Elita. They're called tents."

That afternoon, while Nolan was printing off road maps of the US and directions to Tranquility from the computer, he happened to recall that he still didn't know what sort of alt mode Elita picked.

"Hey Elita!" Nolan called out through the open home office window, "What IS your alt mode, anyway?"

"It is called a Maybach 57S, I believe."

The name didn't ring any bells for Nolan, so while he was online he went ahead and looked it up. When he saw just how much the Maybach actually cost, he nearly fell out of his chair.

"Uh, Elita? D'ya think, before we leave, you could scan a _different_ car, preferably one that DOESN'T cost as much as most houses?"

"Can I? It is physically possible, yes. However, to scan an entirely different alt mode would require energy that I do not wish to spare yet. I would rather conserve my energy for when I need it. Besides, most of the other vehicles I saw were too small for me."

Nolan almost wanted to argue that getting a more discreet alt mode would be worth the extra energy, but managed to catch his tongue. He was the one being anal about saving money (though it was for good reasons, even if only he knew them), so he wasn't in a position to criticize Elita for her own conservativeness.

Throughout the flurry of activity and packing efficiently in a hurry, there was still the constant question of 'oh-my-heck-what-are-we-going-to-tell-Richard?'

"The problem here," Nolan explained, as he rearranged the 'supplies' bag for the third time in an effort to fit everything in, "is that no matter with what we go with, it'll have to explain a) how we're going to get there or why we're taking a Maybach, b) why we're leaving on such short notice, and c) why Dad can't meet the mystery person who's gonna be driving us there, all the while convincing him everything peachy and not to cause a lot of drama about it. Actually, scratch that: I can guarantee you, Dad's gonna try and stop us just to show he can, 'specially if it's something as frivolous as a 'brother-sister bonding time camp trip' or whatever."

"Well, what if we say we're helping a friend?" Aine suggested, currently refolding her clothes neatly after Nolan tried to pack her entire closet into one bag after Elita insisted on a 'no more than two bags per person' rule. The two of them were currently on the living room floor, with various duffle bags and suitcases surrounding them as they decided what to take and what to leave behind.

"That's the truth." Aine went on. "Or maybe we can say you want to visit some old friends you met that one time you went to summer camp."

"Then Dad will want to know who our friend is, why they're not here, what the problem is, why we both have to go, and why he can't meet them." Nolan pointed out. "And he's not gonna buy my sudden interest in the people I haven't seen since I was ten."

Aine was silent in contemplation, before she lit up with an idea. But her expression went to a strange transformation from pleased, to unsure, contemplative, unsure again, before she tentatively put forth her thoughts.

"D-doesn't Mom's family live out in Colorado? Maybe, maybe could say someone was down here for business or something, extended an invitation to us to visit, and is driving us there. And, and since Dad doesn't get along with Mom's family, we could say he doesn't want to come in because he's, he's afraid Dad will get mad, or something."

Nolan barked out a laugh. "Aine, we say we're gonna visit Mom's family, and Dad will throw a fit. They HATE him, remember? They still blame him for what happened to Mom, that's why Dad hasn't let us visit or talk to them in nearly five years. Besides," he added, "I'm pretty sure nobody on Mom's side is driving a Maybach."

"What happened to your mother?"

The pair jumped slightly, having forgotten about the open windows. They exchanged looks, Aine lightly biting her lower lip again, as she lowered her eyes, suddenly absorbed in her packing.

"It's nothing." Nolan said intent on packing the supply bag for the fourth time. "It doesn't matter."

Aine kept her entire focus on her bag, pretending she couldn't hear them. Elita's eyes dimmed for a moment, and didn't broach the subject of the missing O'Connell matriarch again.

The day passed quickly, and by the time the clock struck six, they had finally managed to get everything down to a duffel bag and a backpack per person, with one extra suitcase with Nolan's supplies (including food, a first aid kit, a flashlight, and even a small portable stove, among other things), not to mention the sleeping bags and small pillows.

Earlier, once she was certain Elita wouldn't accidently over hear them, Aine had tentatively suggested they wait until after dinner with Richard, citing that a good meal might put him in a better mood for their announcement (which they still hadn't figured out how to break), but Nolan was quick to shoot it down. He insisted that it would be better to get it over and done with as soon as Richard came home, and once they did they'd better be ready to leave quickly and avoid Hurricane Richard as much as possible, hence their own early meal. As par usual, Aine was quick to bend to Nolan's wishes. Instead for dinner they ate the rest of the pizza left over from lunch, dining outside around the patio table so Elita could join them. It was surprisingly pleasant, lightened with casual conversation and planning for the trip.

"Forgive me if I am being too forward, but why do the two of you feel so anxious about your father?" the transformed Maybach asked.

The teens both froze for an instant, before Aine quietly dropped her eyes to her paper plate and Nolan shrugged. "We're about to tell him that we're gonna go on a spur-of-the-moment road trip with someone he can't talk to, doesn't know, but apparently drives a really cool car. It'd be weird if we _weren't_ nervous about it, since no matter what we say or how we put it, Dad's gonna get upset about it."

"You fear hurting his feelings?"

Nolan couldn't hold back a harsh, barking laugh. "Hardly. Look, it's not a big deal. He'll be pissed that Aine and I are skipping off on him, but it's not a big deal. I can handle him."

"'Handle him?' Nolan, is the reason you wish to leave so quickly, even before you have a chance to speak to your father, because you fear him?"

Aine sucked in a quick breath, though her eyes remain steadfastly lowered, pretending for all the world that she wasn't hearing this. Nolan's hand clenched under the table. "I'm not scared of him, alright?" he said lowly. "Look, can we just drop this? It'll be over in, what, two hours from now?"

"Less than that, as I am detecting his approach now."

The teens nearly fell out of their chairs.

"Already??" Aine yelped. "It can't even be six thirty yet!"

"Actually, my chronometer shows that it is a little past seven now," Elita corrected in a maddeningly calm voice as she casually stood up from her spot on the grass.

"Oh boy oh boy oh boy-" Aine kept chanting as she grabbed the plate and hurried inside, Nolan right behind her. Halfway through the open door, he called back over his shoulder-

"Hey Elita, shouldn't you go-"

-and found himself talking to an empty yard.

"-hide? Okay, somebody gonna have to explain to me how a 20 plus foot robot can disappear so freakin' _fast_."

* * *

It helped to be in an area surrounded by tall pines and millennia of experience with disappearing into the shadows under your belt, so to speak.

Elita crouched in the shadows of the trees, the house several hundred feet away and nearly obscured by the trunks and pine branches between the two. She might not have been able to see everything anymore, but her short-range sensors were more than enough to compensate. She currently had her audio sensors focused on the dwelling before her, sacrificing all around hearing to be able to pick up every word that will be spoken in that particular location.

While useful in spy work, it was also dangerous because it compromised personal security and safety. However, Nolan's hurry and Aine's subtle anxiety was enough for Elita to decide it was worth it.

While Elita was truly grateful for their assistance, and while she could not claim to be an expert on human culture and family units, nothing about how the young humans have been acting today sat well with her. Rather than wishing to say goodbye to their father, Nolan seemed more like he wanted to run away from the conversation, and Aine would radiate quiet anxiety whenever the subject came up, preferring to go mute and let her brother speak instead.

Something was off, and Elita could not ignore it. If it meant eavesdropping on them to ascertain the truth of the situation, so be it. Before the war, she would have considered such actions unethical and a horrid breach of another's privacy, but the vorns of waging guerilla warfare created a sizable grey area in her conscious where things were once black and white.

She hunkered down and narrowed her eyes as the adult human male, the father and head of this family unit, drove his car into the garage.

* * *

_Washington, 12:56 pm, earlier the same day_

"Sir, our intelligence is reporting activity in the Rochester area."

"Unusual how?"

"911 call first this morning, caller was a teenage boy. He was frantic on the phone, the operator couldn't get much out of him, but he kept referring to a 'big robot' on his property, and he feared for their safety. When the response team got there, there wasn't anything out of place, and the boy was more clear-headed. When questioned, he claimed that there had been an intruder wearing, and I quote, 'a red robot mask.' The report also states that the boy acted somewhat suspiciously, nervous and constantly breaking eye contact. The officer didn't believe he was getting the whole truth, and took his weapon (the bat) and his fingerprints into evidence."

"He said there was a big robot? How close is the residence to the NBE landing?"

"Practically on top of it, the house is easily in walking distance from the lake, but it's still isolated. Sir, if the kid really saw something, I don't think he would have made up the story of the masked intruder. Do you think it's the real deal?"

"Even if it's not, we can't take that chance, not with them being so close to the landing point. Round everybody up, I want our best field agents at that door step before the day is out. We still don't know where the NBE stands, so tell them to assume it's hostile and to pack heat."

"Yes sir."

* * *

_Present_

If Nolan had his way, he and Aine would be out of the state already and Richard would come home to an empty house. However, Elita just HAD to insist they talk to him face to face, and since she was their ticket out of that house (even if she didn't know it yet), Nolan didn't have much choice but to comply, not without revealing more of their family dynamics than he was comfortable with. That was their private life, and he'd like to keep it that way: private.

Nolan was waiting in the living room, standing with his hands in his pockets, too keyed up to stand still. Aine waited by the doorframe that lead to the stairs, wanting to be close but wanting to stay out of the way, her concern for her brother fighting with her fear for Richards inevitable anger, leading to the compromise of being physically close but remaining hidden. Nolan didn't want her to see this at all, but after extracting a promise from his sister not to say anything or interfere, he allowed her to hover by the stairs.

As he heard the rumbling of the garage door closing, followed by the door to the house opening to allow the man in, Nolan went over what he was going to say in his head.

This was very quick, because he hadn't decided on anything yet. Frankly, there WAS no good story to give. All he could do was say it straight, weather out the inevitable storm, grab Aine and the bags waiting in the foyer, and signal Elita to come grab them NOW.

Nolan steeled himself as Richard came into the living room, pausing as he noticed his eldest waiting for him. Richard looked over toward the dining room and the empty table. The kitchen door was open, revealing an empty, silent room. Richard's expression darkened as he realized that his preferred schedule had been thrown off kilter.

"Where's Aine?" Richard asked in a tone that dared Nolan to feign ignorance.

"Not here." Nolan answered back blandly.

"I'm not in the mood to deal with your smart assery Nolan. What is your sister doing? When I come home, I expect a hot meal on the table or in the oven. Otherwise, there'd better be a damn good reason why not."

Nolan pressed his lips together tightly, thought _to hell with it_, and said the first thing that came to mind.

"Make your own meals. Aine and I are leaving."

Dead silence.

"Excuse me?" Richard asked in a dangerously calm voice.

"Grandpa called this morning," Nolan said, Aine's suggestion from earlier the only thing sticking to his mind. What the hell, he might as well run with it. "Aunt Katherine was in a bad accident earlier. It doesn't look good, and she's been asking to see us. Not you, just Aine and me, since we're the only connection to her sister she has left. We want to go, and we're not letting you say no."

"Not 'letting' me say no?" Richard repeated, taking a few steps forward, bearing down on Nolan who refused to give any ground to the older man. "What makes you think you have any say in this, you little brat? If I tell you to sit your ass there and STAY there all night, then dammit you'll do it. If I tell you that there is no way in hell I'm going to 'let' you run off to those people, then you're going to stay right there and stop being such a smart ass. I'm your father, and you obey me, as long as you expect to live under my roof and eat my food."

"Which you only do because it'll look bad to all your jackass friends if you threw your own kid out," Nolan snapped back. "And you can't stop us. Are you seriously saying you won't let us see our own family? This is Moms SISTER we're talking about, we owe it to her at least."

"Don't talk about her to my face Nolan, and you know damn well her family has always hated me. They don't want to see me? Then they sure as hell don't get to see my kids!"

"This isn't about you!"

"Like hell it isn't! This is just them trying to undermine my authority with my own kids, and goddamn it I'm not going to let you help them."

"It always comes back to what you want, doesn't it?"

"You're damn right it does! My house, my rules, my kids, and I can do whatever the hell I want with any of them!"

Nolan and Richard had been steadily raising their voices, but now Nolan dropped to an icy whisper. "We're not you possessions Dad and I'm not going to let you treat us like that anymore. Your stupid selfishness is the reason Mom's not around anymore!"

CRACK!

Nolan knew he had crossed a line, bringing up his mom like that, but he hadn't been quick enough to avoid the punch to his cheek. Richard had put a lot of weight behind it, enough to send Nolan to the floor. While Nolan tried to pick himself up, Richard placed on of his shoes on Nolan's outstretched hand and crushed it under his heel. Nolan wanted to cry out in pain, but gritted his teeth before any real sound could be released. Dammit if he allowed Richard the satisfaction!

"You want to leave, go ahead. But if you ever come back, I'll call the cops and have you arrested for trespassing," Richard warned darkly, and Nolan had no doubt about the truth of the warning. Richard leaned down, grabbed his son by the back of his scalp, and forcefully pulled back, forcing the younger to look up at him. "And when and if you leave, don't even think of taking Aine with you. She's staying right here with me, where she belongs."

A little gasp was heard, and Richard turned to see his daughter peeking around the doorway, frozen in horror at the sight of Nolan on the floor, Richard still gripping his hair and crushing his hand underfoot. Richard released his hold and stalked toward Aine. Aine, realizing the danger too late, tried to retreat up the stairs, but she had been too slow to react. Richard lunged forward and grabbed Aine by the arm and pulled her towards him with a strong jerk that sent Aine off balance. She fell forward and couldn't stop herself from crashing half her body into the sharp corner of the doorway, banging her face hard against the wall. She nearly tumbled to the floor and Richard forcefully dragged her into the living room, where Nolan was regaining his footing.

"Let her go!" Nolan yelled, looking ready to attack the taller man. "I'm not done here!" Richard ignored him, his attention on the slip of a girl he held in an iron grip.

"Are you siding with Nolan, Aine?" Richard asked/demanded, with promise of dire consequence if she gave the wrong answer. She could only gaze up at him at him in fearful silence, her nose already bleeding from the wall crash. Richard tightened his grip, and Aine squirmed under the pain. "Answer me!"

Another hand landed on the arm holding Aine prisoner, trying to wrench if off. "I said let her go!" Nolan demanded.

Noland and Richard were about the same in height, but Richard's broader frame outweighed his son by a good amount. With one hand he back handed Nolan and nearly sent him falling again. "You little bastard, since when have you been so goddamn difficult? Lucas, that son of a bitch, I bet this is his doing, he never liked me." In his ire he twisted Aine's arm, and she let out a small, pained cry. Nolan saw red.

"LET HER GO, YOU - !"

The family drama was cut short by a crash and flying shards of glass from the former patio door. Nolan and Aine hit the floor, but Richard wasn't quite as lucky. The teens could hear him screaming in sheer terror, and as they looked up they were just in time to see a huge yet familiar red and silver hand pulling their father out the broken glass door.

As he disappeared from sight, still screaming, the pair exchanged looks, not entirely believing what had just happened. In silent agreement, they scrambled to their feet and, mindful of the thousands of sharp shattered glass cubes and shards, and hurried outside.

Elita stood in the yard, the setting sun setting her armor aflame, as she glared with cold intensity at the panicked human flailing helplessly in her grasp, her glowing eyes now so pale as to be nearly white, so tense and fierce that Nolan and Aine, who had somehow become accustomed to the alien, took steps back as they remembered why they had been so terrified of her in the first place.

Good bye Princess. Hello Warrior.

"I may not be familiar with human familiar customs," Elita said, in a deadly cold voice, "but I do believe that abusing one's own younglings is not a part of them. All day I had wondered why the children had been so reserved about speaking of you, why your eldest was so eager to avoid you completely. Now I wonder how I could have been so blind."

"P-p-please!" Richard near blubbered. "Don't kill me, please! I'll do whatever you want, just don't kill me, I'm begging you!" Elita scoffed.

"A creature such as you has nothing to offer me." She hissed, her grip tightening ever so slightly. Richard let out a whimper. "I come only for the children."

"The kids? You want the kids? Fine, take them, you can have them, anything you want, just spare me!" Richard blubbered.

Something sank in Nolan's chest, and he felt Aine press up against his side, wrapping her little arms around his own for comfort.

Elita's expression twisted in disgust. "Your cowardice and selfishness disgust me, human. Do not attempt to follow us, do not attempt to report this, or I will not be so merciful the next time we meet."

A bluff, seeing as there would be no way for Elita to know if he heeded her warning until the police came after them. But then again, Richard was hardly in a position to call her on it.

With two steps she stretched out her arm and dropped Richard on the roof of the two-story home, safely out of the way. With a little (okay, a lot) of effort he would be able to get down through one of the open windows, but it would buy them a good sized head start. Elita looked down at the teens. "Go get your things, we are leaving immediately," she ordered.

The humans didn't move.

"Now!"

The pair jump and hustled inside, as if a spell had been broken. Oddly, Nolan was able to muse as he swung through the kitchen to grab a roll of paper towels for his sister, under normal circumstances he would have chafed under being ordered like that, especially by someone who had suddenly busted into his business. But then again, only an idiot would argue with a peeved off giant robot.

Silently, quickly, the subdued pair grabbed their bags and gathered everything in the driveway, where Elita was transforming into her car mode and popped her trunk and rear doors open. They threw their duffle bags and sleeping bags in and scrambled in the back seat. The doors slammed shut behind them, and the seatbelts shot out and wrapped around them, soundly and firmly snapping them into place.

They were all very quiet as Elita drove down the street and away from the house, away from Richard, who only stared at the retreating car in disbelief.

* * *

**AN**: Special thanks to Ridel again, for telling me how to do the line-breaks.

The Maybach 57S is 225.5 inches long (about 18'9 long), while the 2009 Camaro (Bumblebee) is only 186.2 inches long (about 15'6). Also, femme frames are designed to be more slender than mech ones, so Elita has more mass going toward her height, rather than bulk. Hence, why she's so tall.

And yes, Jazz is alive! I debated with myself for a long time about whether or not to bring him back. Ultimately I decided to because a) he's one of my favorite characters, b) his skills fit this assignment to a T, c) there are so many fanfics where Jazz is alive post-movie that I'm reasonably certain my readers will be willing to accept it without fuss, and d) I just plain like the fact that Elita's going to be about five or six feet taller than him. 

Speaking of which…I know Jazz is 16 ft, BB 18 ft, and Prime 28 ft, but does anyone know how big Ironhide and Ratchet are?

Any and all comments will be loved, constructive criticism will be appreciated, and flames will be laughed off. The little blue button calls to you…


	5. Ch 5 Heart to Spark

**AN**: Don't worry, I'm still here! But I'm going to be more leisurely about updating from now on, as I said before. It's much more relaxing, and the ideas flow better when I'm not trying to force them. BTW, check out my profile if you want descriptions of what Nolan and Aine look like. They're not terribly detailed, but you'll get the important parts. Also, I have links to Elita's Movie-Verse helm, and her alt-mode so you can check it out.

I also changed the summary a little. My 'mystery autobot' of the first chapter won't be mysterious anymore, but hopefully my story will show up more on searches.

Disclaimer: Lemme check...nope, still not mine.

* * *

Ch 5 – Heart to Spark

Richard sat on the edge of the roof, one leg dangling, the other pulled up as he hugged his knee to his chest. The sun was going down, but he paid no mind to the fading light, the waning day. He didn't care about getting down, or how long he might be stuck up there. Right now all he could do was just sit there and block out the rest of the world, his mind replaying that awful, awful moment of cowardice…

"_The kids? You want the kids? Fine, take them, you can have them, anything you want, just spare me!"_

Richard almost wanted to throw up, he was so disgusted with himself. He could make up excuses, saying he was panicked, wasn't thinking clearly, that the robot had somehow messed up his mind…but it didn't matter.

He had been ready to give up his own kids, to save himself. He HAD given up his kids, his own children, to save himself

_My god, what have I done? I just let that thing take them, just to protect myself, and…_

Wait.

Richard furrowed his brow in memory, lifting his head slightly from his knee.

The robot said it had come for the children, but Aine and Nolan…they went _willingly_. They even had suitcases ready. They left…on their own free will. The robot turned into a car, they hopped into the back seat, and let it drive them away.

They left with the robot.

They left him, to go with the robot.

They left him, for the robot.

They left him. They left HIM. THEY left HIM!

Richard fisted his hands as rage began to course through his body.

_How dare they…how dare they, how dare they, those goddamn brats how DARE they!!_

They won't get away with this. Dammit, whatever it took, he was going to GET his kids back, and they were going to learn that they were to NEVER defy him, or try to run away from them. He hadn't been this mad since his wife fled from the house and her husband. He had been about ready to break everything in the house, what with the object of his rage not being available.

No, no, he had to be calm about this. He had to be rational. He wasn't going to take this lying down, of course. He'd call the government, he'd call the army, he'd call EVERYONE, find them, track them down, maybe the army would be able to kill that thing or take it in for experiments, whatever they did for this kind of thing, and he'd get their kids back.

Richard face broke out in a dark smirk. He wondered how they'd feel to see their own little Iron Giant friend being blown to pieces by missiles.

But first…he needed to find a way down from the roof.

* * *

It was very silent in the car as they drove away from the house. Nolan was slouched in his seat, arms crossed with a dark expression, Aine was wringing her hands in her lap and looking everywhere except her brother and the dashboard, and Elita…was a car and thus impossible to read, but hadn't said a word in nearly an hour either.

"Are the two of you alright?" Elita asked suddenly, startling Aine back to reality. There was a moment's silence, but when it became clear that Nolan wasn't going to be speaking first, Aine did so instead.

"Um, yeah I'm fine," Aine said with a weak smile, directing her attention to the radio since that was where Elita's voice seemed to be emanating from. "I mean, my nose stopped bleeding awhile ago, and my face doesn't hurt anymore."

"But are you alright?" Elita persisted, and this time the girl couldn't pretend to not realize that her newest guardian wasn't referring to the bruises.

"I-" she stopped, reflexively looking sidelong at Nolan. Whatever she had hoped to see, she didn't get it as he continued to stare steadfastly forward, disconnected from the current conversation. "I'm not…I don't…"

"Your father attacked you, and then all but abandoned you," Elita said quietly. "Does that not upset you?"

"I…I'm uh…" Aine couldn't continue, her throat was closing up. She squeezed her fingers with one hand so tightly she almost feared breaking them. "I…I…"

"Why did you have to butt in?"

Aine nearly swallowed her tongue.

"I beg your pardon?" Elita asked slowly.

"Why did you have to butt in?" Nolan repeated slowly, his eyes burning with simmering anger. "I had everything under control. Why did you have to bust in like that?"

"Your father demonstrated violence toward yourself and your sister. You would have me stand by and allow it?"

"I'd 'have you' mind your own business!" Nolan snapped. "You had NO RIGHT to do that! I've been putting up with Dad's shit for years, so I know what I'm doing! I was going to stop him before you crashed in. I didn't need you come in and 'save' us!"

"With all due respect Nolan," Elita said, her voice even but firm in its seriousness, "I do not believe you had the situation as much under your control as you would have me believed. I will not stand by and allow harm to befall my allies."

"Allies. Right. That's all we are, isn't it? The only reason you even GIVE a damn is because we said we were going to help you. That's it, that's _all_. If I didn't, then you'd have left us alone, right?"

"S-stop it Nolan!" Aine said, still looking down at her lap as her hands began to tremble. "Sh-she was only trying to help. Y-you don't need to get so, so mad at her. I, I mean, she saw that Dad was hitting you, and my nose was bleeding, and-and she only did wh-what she thought s-she had do to pro-protect us. So, so stop yelling at her…please?"

_Please Nolan_, she silently begged, _please don't make this worse. This tension, this anger…I feel like I'm going to suffocate, please, make it stop…_

(-nausea sick her stomach just a little now but it's getting worse it always got worse-)

"I _wasn't_ yelling." Nolan insisted, and he was about to say more when an odd look crossed his face as he realized something. "Elita? How DID you know what was going on? You weren't anywhere near the house, how could you hear anything? Wait…were you _spying_ on us?!"

(-trembling trembling whole body shaking shaking shaking whole body trembling-)

"It is hardy 'spying' Nolan. You and Aine had been demonstrating anxiety toward your father the entire day, but when I inquire as to why, both of you remained reticent. I was concerned, so I kept my scanners focused on your home, in the event intervention became needed."

"'Scanners?'…You were listening in on us??" His voice was raising, he was getting angry again…

(-heart racing, faster, faster, faster, going to leap out of her chest, faster fasterfaster-)

"I could hear ever word spoken, yes."

"That-that-that's a complete invasion of privacy! You had no right to do that!"

"Sh-she was o-only trying to help," Aine forced out.

(-nausea getting worse sick sick sick can't stop trembling hold hands tight don't let them see can't let them see-)

Nolan actually looked shocked. "So wait, you're on her side now?"

"N-no! I'm only s-saying, she saw we were getting hurt and, and she wanted to stop it, right?"

(-chest hurt it hurt starting to hurt it hurt it hurt it was hurting so bad getting worse always got worse-)

"Aine is correct. I had reason to be concerned from the beginning, and acted on it. I could not, in good conscience, leave you alone."

"Conscience? Where's your conscience when it comes to spying on people in their own homes?"

(-gasping gasping can't breathe not enough air can't breathe can'tbreathcan'tbreathe-)

"You would value momentary privacy over your own safety?"

(-can'tbreathe-)

"Yes!"

"…Aine, are you alright?"

"STOP THE CAR!"

Elita slammed the brakes, and within seconds Aine fumbled the buckle loose and was opening the door. Nolan reached over and grabbed her arm before she could get out. "Where are you going?"

"I-I-I have to use the bathroom!"

Stunned silence.

"Okay?"

Aine pulled her arm away and near dashed for the trees, disappearing within seconds. Nolan blinked after her.

"What. The hell. What that?"

* * *

Aine ran into the woods, heedless of the branches smacking her in the face, the stones, and debris that tripped and stumbled her every dozen steps or so, until she nearly ran headlong into a tree and collapsed at its base.

Air, air, it was everywhere, but she couldn't get it into her lungs, her diaphragm wouldn't expand and let the precious air in, and her chest was still hurting hurting so bad, her heart beating so fast and hard too fast too hard it hurt-

(-oh my god am I going to die here today is this the day I die am I-)

She hugged the tree with all the might of her little arms and tried to scream, sheer terror filling every pore of her body, but she couldn't do it, she didn't have the AIR, she couldn't scream she could barely _breathe._

(-oh my god oh my god ohmygodohmygod-)

Tears streamed down her face as her body trembled violently in her terror that this might be IT, this might be the night her heart finally gave in, that this would be the last attack that would break her.

(-I don't want to die I don't want to die I'm not ready to die Nolan needs me Elita needs me I don't want to die-)

She was mute, helpless, scared and alone, and all she could do was grip the rough bark until it dug into her hands and drew minute amounts of blood, trembling as panic and terror racked her body, unable to move, unable to scream, unable to do anything more than simply endure and hope it would end soon.

_

* * *

_

20 minutes earlier

"What. The hell. Was that?"

Elita, recognizing a rhetorical question when she heard it, said nothing. She had other matters to ponder anyway, like Aine's unusual biological readings shortly before she demanded they stop right then and there. Nolan, meanwhile, remembered he was still mad at Elita, and took the opportunity to get out of the car as well.

Standing a few feet away, arms crossed, he refused to look at her, instead glaring at the trees on the other side of the road, the opposite direction of where Aine went. If Elita wasn't going to admit she was wrong for butting in where she wasn't supposed to, fine, he just won't deal with her until she apologized.

Elita, however, proved uncooperative in this matter.

"What is this truly about Nolan?" she asked, in that calm, patient voice of hers that spoke of infinite understanding. "Is this because you feel that I do not trust you to protect yourself, that I see you as a child?"

"What? No, it's…look you…see it's…arg," he gave up, rubbing his eyes with one hand. "I mean…look, I've been dealing with this crap for years now, so it kinda pisses me off when someone who's almost a total stranger decides 'hey, this is my business now' or…yeah, something like that. Y'see?"

"I believe I am beginning to. But there is more, isn't there?"

Nolan stuffed his hands in his pockets, still not looking back at her.

"It is almost about what your father said, isn't it?" She asked quietly, somberly.

Nolan hitched his shoulders up. "Don't look too much into it. And don't feel sorry for us either. "I've ALWAYS known he thinks of himself first and foremost. Why would he be any different in a life-or-death situation? Hell, he probably thought you were going to eat him or something, it's hard to keep up a charade under that kind of stress."

"Knowing and suspecting the truth of something, is different from seeing it confirmed with your own eyes," Elita pointed out. "There is no weakness in feeling hurt and betrayed."

"I don't want to talk about this right now, okay?"

"Very well."

They remained in silence for a few moments longer, before Elita opened her driver door in silent invitation. After a moment of contemplation, Nolan went in.

"I understand my interference compromises our mission, and that it put a great deal of stress on yourself and Aine, both now and later, when you next see him." Elita said. "While that was unavoidable, I do apologize for that much. However, I acted with only your best interests in mind. I have no regrets about my decision, and I will not apologize for it."

Nolan felt like he should be mad at Elita, but for some reason he couldn't summon the emotion. Maybe he was just too tired. Constant anger took a lot of energy, and it had already been a long day.

Besides, Richard had been worse than usual, probably because Nolan had been more rebellious and insolent than usual and, if he were to be honest with himself, he probably wouldn't have been able to stop Richard from causing even more harm to Aine, not without resorting to an all out fist fight. At least Elita spared them from that.

"Y'know, I'm learning that it's really hard to stay mad at you," Nolan commented with a sardonic grin. "Seriously though? Spying on other people isn't cool, so don't make a habit of it, okay? This isn't Cybertron, or whatever. Respect our privacy from here on out, and we're all good."

"Should I take this to mean that we are at peace again?" Elita asked lightly.

"Yeah sure. Considering we're going to be hanging out with each other a LOT for the next few days…even _I_ know carrying a chip on my shoulder the whole time doesn't make for a happy work environment. Consider the hatchet buried, or whatever."

"Hatchet? What does a small axe have to do with us here and now?"

"It's a human expression Elita. It's a good thing."

"Ah."

They fell silent again, but instead of being uncomfortable and tense, now it was easy and relaxed. It was a welcome change, Nolan could admit, and Aine would be glad of it when she finished her bathroom break.

Come to think of it…

Nolan checked his watch, which did no good because he hadn't checked the time Aine left, and lacking a starting time left him without a way to determine how much time had actually passed.

"Hey Elita? Is it just me, or is Aine taking a really long time to pee?"

"I am afraid I am not familiar with the biological requirements or needed time for human waste disposal, so I cannot comment," Elita pointed out, almost dryly.

"Well, do you know how long it's been then?" Nolan amended.

"Approximately 16 minutes 43 seconds."

"43 seconds? How the hell is that approximate? Wait a sec, over fifteen minutes already?" Not a terribly long time, but considering Aine was out in the woods he'd figured she'd try to be back as soon as she could. Unless she got turned around and was lost, or was scared off by a snake, or ran into a bear…

"Yes, although I suspect she is using this time to calm herself," Elita said, before Nolan's imagination could _really_ take flight.

Nolan gave the radio an odd look. "Calm herself? Why would she need to be alone to do that?"

Elita didn't answer, but Nolan got the distinct impression he just asked a really stupid question.

"Okay, let me rephrase that: how do you figure that?"

"Earlier, I noticed that Aine's biological signs were changing rather drastically, similar to how they had been when we had first met and she had been on the verge of panic."

"Panic? You think she was starting to really freak out?" Nolan waved a hand to dismiss the notion before Elita could even say anything more. "No way. Sorry, but I think you're getting something wrong here. Aine's one of the calmest, most easy going people I know. I mean, if she can accept YOU as quick as she did, then she's not gonna freak out that badly from one argument."

"Hmm," was Elita's only, noncommittal response.

* * *

It felt like an eternity until her heart rate finally began to slow to a normal pace and she felt like she could breathe normally again. She wiped her clammy hands against her white skorts as she leaned back against the tree, taking deep breathes and relishing the ease of each one. She laid one hand across her stomach. The nausea was still there, but it too was fading, and she no longer felt like she was going to throw up anymore.

This wasn't the first episode she'd had. The first one had been five months ago, in March, and in its newness had been truly terrifying. She had been home alone and had collapsed in the hallway, trying to pull in air as stabbing pains laced her heart. At the time, she had sincerely believed she was having a heart attack. Once it was over she realized that, no, it couldn't have been, she was too young and healthy for that. Fearful of bothering Richard or needlessly worrying Nolan, she had instead chosen to dismiss it as a one-time incident and left it at that.

This had been her third episode.

Aine pulled her knees to her chest, hugging them tightly. She didn't know _what_ these episodes were, or why they were happening to her. Was it a hereditary disease? A weak heart condition? She had no way of knowing by herself. She HAD considered seeing a doctor…but that would be a lot of trouble, and expense, and it would mean letting Richard and Nolan know about it.

No, it had been better to keep it to herself for as long as possible. She hadn't want to make anyone else worry, or to be a burden. Richard liked it best when everything ran smoothly, and if he knew about Aine's episodes, he'd probably get upset and get mad more often. Life at home was so much easier when he was content, and Nolan was happier if the house stayed peaceful longer. If the truth got out, their delicate balance would be broken, and she couldn't let that happen.

But what about now? She no longer had to worry about maintaining that balance, not out here at least. Would it be alright now?

No.

Not now, not ever.

They had to go back someday anyway, and she'd have to go back to keeping the peace in any way possible. That meant keeping the secret for as long as she could. Besides, she was starting to recognize an episode when it was coming on, so she will be able to leave if she sensed another, before Nolan had a chance to witness it himself.

She curled up a little more, feeling very small and tight inside. She felt if she kept curling up, she could disappear completely.

But that didn't happen.

Instead, she finally got to her feet and wobbled back to where Elita and Nolan were waiting; regaining her even stride by the time she broke the tree line. She could see Nolan perk up in his seat as soon as he spotted her, and she gave a little wave even as Elita popped the front passenger door open for her.

"Sorry for taking so long," Aine said as she slid in. Nolan held up a rectangular plastic bottle of clear liquid.

"Hands please."

Aine obediently held out the appendages as Nolan squirted then with the disinfectant gel, rubbing it all over her hands as Nolan twisted around to replace the bottle back into the supplies back behind the driver's seat.

Elita pulled away from the side of the road, and as they continued on their journey, Aine could feel the atmosphere had changed drastically. The tension that had nearly choked her earlier was gone, and Nolan was relaxed in his seat with one hand lightly on the steering wheel for appearance's sake, no longer glowering or trying to avoid touching Elita's interior as much as possible. Elita, meanwhile, had turned on the radio and was flitting through the stations, settling on one that played soft rock, pleasant to listen to and a nice way to relax at the end of the day.

"We will continue down this way for another couple of hours," Elita was saying over the music. "After which we will pull over for the night, and start again early in the morning once the two of you are rested."

"Fine by me," Nolan said. "We can break out the can opener and Benson stove. It'll be like camping for real."

Aine smiled, relieved by the new balance of the group. She leaned down a little to talk into the radio.

"Hey Elita? Tell us some more about Optimus."

"What would you like to know?"

"Oh anything," Aine said breezily, before her smile turned sly, "like what the deal is between you two."

"What? I didn't-"

"No, but I could tell by the way you talk about him. Sooo…what's he _really_ like?"

Nolan turned his head to look out the window, not entirely concerned with the girl-gossip that was starting up. That's why he noticed the long line of black vehicles heading down the same road they were, going the opposite direction. He turned his head to watch them go, easily half a dozen cars at least. Whoever they were, they looked official and meant serious, get-out-of-our-way business.

"That's not too conspicuous," Nolan observed quietly. "I wonder if the Senator or someone is in town."

* * *

The parade of black vans and cars pulled up to the lone house isolated by tall pines and distance from everywhere else. The upstairs was dark, but the lower level windows were lit up, so at least one person was still home. Hopefully the boy who made the 911 call, he was the only one they were interested in right now.

From the lead car, Reginald Simmons stepped out, slamming the door behind him.

"Okay people, I want team A with me in the house, Team B on the outside." He ordered. "You know the drill: examine every nook, cranny, and blade of grass for any NBE radiation, take whatever samples you have to, and report any major findings you come up with. Duane, Grit, you'll be conducting interviews with the other family members, see if any of them saw anything. Remember, we're looking for any and all physical evidence of an NBE presence. We can't leave ANYTHING behind. Clear?"

"Clear." And a dozen inauspicious uniforms scattered with practiced ease. Simmons himself started walking up the driveway with his two chosen agents on either side of him, Team A hanging back until the homeowner opened the door to let them in.

That proved unnecessary however.

"Hey! HEY! You down here!"

Simmons stopped midstride, not quite believing what he was hearing.

"Up here!"

Obediently, he, and everyone else, looked up.

Perched on the roof of the house was a middle aged made, features indistinct in the fading light, waving down at them. "Get me down from here, before that robot comes back!"

Dead silence.

"I think we've just confirmed the presence of an NBE." Duane mentioned. Grit gave him a flat look from behind the sunglasses.

"Gee, you think?"

* * *

Nearly an hour later found Richard, dirty and a little scrapped from sliding around on roofing tiles but in once peace and one solid footing again, sitting on his living room couch while half a dozen agents combed through his home in a frighteningly experienced manner, holding little handheld…something or other that made beeping sounds. They were everywhere: in the yard, the living room, driveway, upstairs, one was even kneeling by the stairs (was he planning on inspecting each and every step?).

Richard had tried to protest half-heartedly to the invasion and search (he mentioned something about constitutional rights, he was pretty sure), but he gave up pretty quick, preferring to stay seated on the couch. Hey, if these government goons knew ANYTHING about the robot, then he wasn't going to get in their way.

"Sir?"

Richard looked up to see the lone female agent there, a pretty blonde woman with her hair pulled back in a low bun. She wore minimal make up, but she hardly needed it, and even sitting down Richard could tell she was very tall, probably pushing six foot, very rare for a woman. Her sunglasses were in her chest pocket, so he could see she had green eyes.

She kneeled to put herself on the same level as Richard.

"Sir, my name is Alicia Grit," she began. "I need you to tell me what you saw. We also need you to tell us where your son is?"

"My son?" Richard repeated in confusion.

"Your son made a 911 call this morning, we think he saw something that pertains to national security. We need to know what he saw, and everything that happened."

Nolan…he saw something earlier? Was that why the robot wanted him and Aine? Was that when they made their pact to betray him?

Richard only shook his head, the wheels in his mind already turning. "He's gone. That thing took him."

Alicia Grit started. "Excuse me?"

"The giant robot took my kids, left me on the roof, said that if I told anyway, that'd it'd come back and kill me." Okay, the robot hadn't said those exact words, but he could pick up on the implied meanings. Besides, if they thought the robot was a threat to the kids, then they'd work that much harder to bring them back here, where they belonged.

Grit had a sympathetic look on her face, and she put a hand on Richards shoulder. "Richard, I promise you we will do everything we can to get your children back, but I need you to tell me what happened."

Richard gave her a flat look. "Look, lady, I appreciate what your trying to do, but I'd rather talk to your boss, or someone in charge."

"Very well. Simmons!"

The man in question looked up from where he was examining the broken glass door.

"He only wants to speak to you," she explained. Simmons gave a curt nod and made his way over.

"You're name is Alicia, right?" Richard confirmed. When she nodded, he said, "There's some coffee in the corner cupboard. Go brew up some for me. The coffee maker's pretty simple, so even you'll be able to figure it out."

Alicia drew her lips in a thin line, and even the approaching Simmons looked annoyed at having a civilian trying to order around one of his own subordinates.

"Sorry sir," Grit said crisply, "I have work to do." She moved away as Simmons took over, leaving a slightly confused Richard behind. What was her problem? He wanted coffee, and she was here. What was the problem?

"Sir, you mentioned something about a giant robot before?" Simmons said. Richard looked up at the tall man blinkingly. Right then his mind (finally) caught up to everything, enough for him to realize he was missing a few key pieces of information. For example...

"Just who the hell ARE you people, and what are you doing in my home in the first place?!"

This got him a gold colored badge in the face, and he had to jerk his head back.

"We're with the government," Simmons explained shortly. "Reconnaissance and Discretion Agency."

"Never heard of it."

"Never will. That robot you saw earlier? We have reason to believe it's a Non-Biological Extraterrestrial. It's our job to track it down before it has a chance to cause any damage."

"Extrater – aliens??"

"Exactly. Which is why it's of VITAL importance you tell me everything that has happened."

"Oh my god…"

"Some time tonight would be great, sir."

Richard glowered at the government agent, who was already beginning to grate on his nerves with his impeccably calm snobbery. Still, if he wanted to get his kids back, he was going to have to cooperate with them. Even he could understand that much. Still, he was going have to be careful about the story he told.

"I didn't know about the 911 call, but I got home a little after seven…"

Simmons listened to the man tell about his brush with the NBE, occasionally jotting down key notes, like descriptions and what the NBE said to him. Apparently a little over an hour ago the father had just got home and greeted his children in the living room, when the NBE shoved a hand in through the patio door (hence all the broken glass), and grabbed Richard. After threatening Richard's life if he didn't keep quiet, the NBE left him on the roof, grabbed the kids as they tried to run away, and ran off into the woods with them.

_Kidnapping, destruction of property, threatening a human…yep, definitely looks like an NBE-D to me_, he thought as Richard was winding down. Great. Juuuuust great.

"Anything we need to know about the kids?" Simmons asked, pocketing the little notepad. "Will they cooperate, try to escape, rebel?"

Richard shook his head. "Well, Nolan might, he's always been rebellious and hard to deal with. Aine…god, she's a delicate thing, I don't know how she'll handle it. She won't fight back, so maybe the robot won't hurt her." Richard now had a slightly ironic smile on his face. "Probably a good thing those kids were taken together. Nolan won't do anything that'll jeopardize Aine, so that'll curb him, and Aine will have him for support when she gets too scared."

Yes, that's how they had always been, hadn't it? They had always been close, them against him almost. It used to irritate him to no ends, how their first loyalties had been to each other rather than to him first. Now…well, it still irked him, but it might prove to be their saving grace. Or at least Aines. Maybe they'll at least be able to get her back, since frankly, he didn't see Nolan cooperating for too long with the alien. How long with its patience last before it runs out and it kills him?

Well, he'd rather have both back, but if he HAD to pick one to save, it'd be Aine. She was easier to control.

"Alright people, we've got what we came for," Simmons was saying to his teams. "Let's pack up and get out of here."

Richard felt strong arms lifting him from the couch, and it a moment of shocked clarity he realized that, when Simmons said 'pack up', he was including himself as well.

"Hey! What're doing??"

"You're a key witness Mr. O'Connell," Simmons explained, leading him and his captors out the door. "We might have need of you later, and since you're the only remaining witness, we can't exactly just leave you right now. Can't risk you telling all your friends about the cool alien sighting you had."

"This is kidnapping!"

"And I've got a little badge that says I can get away with just about anything I want for the sake of National Security."

"You can't do this! I've got to go to work tomorrow! I have clients! You can't just pick me up and take me out of here!"

Richard was shouting his complaints all the way to the van, needing to be pushed in by his insistent new hosts.

* * *

Meanwhile, a certain reconnaissance team was just passing the Utah state line into Denver.

"Y'know, I really have no idea why everyone says the food in Utah is so bland," Sam was commenting, finishing up the last of his dinner. "That tasted just fine to me."

"I'm pretty sure McDonalds is going to taste the same everywhere Sam," Mikaela pointed out with a grin, crushing her own white and red bag.

"Hey, you never know. Hey Mickey, check you're Monopoly pieces, what'd ya get?"

"Uh, States Avenue and Illinois Avenue."

"Darn it, I don't have either of those."

"You seriously collect these pieces?"

"You never know, I might be the million dollar winner!" He said this with exaggerated enthusiasm.

"Sam," Bumblebee interjected tentatively, "I don't want to disappoint you, but the chances of that happening are-"

"Insanely small? Yeah, but its fun to try anyway."

"Plus the government's gonna take half of it in taxes anyway," Mikaela pointed out, sipping the last of her diet coke.

"Seriously?! Half??"

"The government wants it's cut, sweetie."

"_Optimus to Jazz"_

"_Jazz here. What can I do for ya, Boss Bot?"_

"_The RDA has new information for us about one of the landed Cybertronians, which you all need to know."_

"_Hold on a sec, lemme put you on the open comm. so Bee and the kids can hear this too."_

With a short crackle, the voice of the Autobot Leader was booming in Bumblebees small cab.

"Secretary Keller has informed me that the RDA has a witness who was attacked by one of the Cybertronians." The human's immediately straightened.

"Attacked?!" Mikaela repeated. "Is he okay?"

"He is unharmed. The Cybertronian merely picked him up, threatened him, and left him on the roof of his house."

"That's…weird." Sam commented. "Why would anyone do that? Just for kicks?"

"He also said the intruder took his son and daughter."

"Oh my god…" Mikaela whispered. "Why?"

"No one knows," Optimus admitted. "But this does not sound like Autobot behavior."

"So we've got at least one Decepticon runnin' around then," Jazz observed. "Well, don't that just beat it? Prob'ly took the kids as hostages, just in case things went sour down the road."

"The attack happened less than 90 minutes ago, so the Cybertronian should still be in New York," Optimus went on. "The government is keeping an eye out, but you two are going to need to hurry before the trail gets too cold."

"On it Boss Bot, we'll keep drivin' all night. Jazz 'n Bee out."

"Sorry Sam, sorry Mikaela," Bumblebee said, sounding sincerely apologetic. "It doesn't look like you'll be terribly comfortable tonight." Sam waved the apology off.

"I'm pretty sure catching the Bad Guy and saving the hostages is a little more important than my beauty sleep. Mikaela, you want the back seat? I'm just fine in the seat."

"Really? Thanks Sam, you're sweet." She gave her boyfriend a peck on the cheek before climbing in the back. Sam grinned goofily. Who says chivalry is dead?

* * *

Turning off the communications on his end, Optimus leaned heavily against the consol. This wasn't going well at ALL. It could still get worse, granted, but it was early yet. He could only pray that those innocent children would be found safe and alive.

"Not what we'd been hoping for isn't it?"

Optimus looked up to see Ironhide enter the room with a knowing, sad smile. Optimus nodded in agreement.

"News of new arrivals should have been a happy occasion, a reason to celebrate," Optimus said. "They should have been a sign that we were not dead yet. It was not supposed to preclude unknown dangers like this. I want to be optimistic about the second one, but I also have to be realistic. If they have not contacted us by now, then they are not going to. That does not bode well for their allegiance."

Ironhide clapped a hand on his superiors shoulder. "These two are only the first. They won't be the last. I can think of a few who'd get here even if it meant fighting through the entire Decepticon army if they had to."

Optimus gave the Weapons Specialist a wry smile. "Like Chromia?"

"Exactly," Ironhide said pride evident of his bond-mate. "Slag if she lets anything stop her." He gave Optimus a significant look. "And as long as Chromia's alive, then we both know that Elita One is too. They're both far too stubborn to die."

Optimus started slightly at the mention of Elita's name, but his expression relaxed as he fell into old, fond memories. "You are right. Elita is one of the strongest people I know. If anyone will make it to earth, it will be her." His face saddened. "But still, I wish I could know for certain if she is still alright." He let out a lit laugh. "Sometimes, I envy you, Ironhide."

"Envy me?" the mech in question repeated.

"Through your bond with Chromia, you do not have to wonder if she is still alive or not, you can just _know_. I don't have that with Elita."

On reflex, Ironhide lifted a hand to his chassis, over where his spark was. The bond between himself and his femme, while sometimes painful due to the strain of time and distance, still remained a comfort to him. Though he could not share his thoughts with her, whenever he prodded it he would still receive, not a message, but a sense of 'I'm still here' from her. Yes, the separation could be hard and painful on bondmates, but it was also a comfort to _know_ that the other was still alright.

"Why didn't you ever bond, Optimus?" Ironhide inquired. "Everyone assumed it was going to happen sooner rather than later, and the two of you had been an item for a ridiculously long time even before the war."

Optimus remained silent, for such a long time Ironhide was beginning to think he wasn't going to answer.

"I'm sorry Optimus, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to--"

"No, it is alright Ironhide. In truth, I HAD wanted to make her my bondmate, and had the war never happened we probably would have bonded. But once the fighting started, she refused to allow it…

* * *

"…because I could not allow him to tie himself to me"

"What do you mean?" Aine asked, leaning forward in her seat. Even Nolan was listening intently, though he had yet to ask any questions.

"I mean, bonding is like your guys' version of marriage, right? What's so bad about it?" Aine asked.

Elita was silent for a long moment before she answered.

"When humans marry, they exchange a promise to each other that they both consider sacred and binding. But that promise can be broken and made a new with another. Bonding…cannot."

"Why?"

"When we bond, we merge our sparks. Our sparks our the purest forms of ourselves, the cradle of our lives, and merging sparks is a merging of minds and souls, and is the most intimate of encounters on every level. Every thought, every emotion, every sensation is shared and treasured. But more than that, being bonded to another means being tied irrevocably to one another. We can sense each other, feel the other's strongest emotions, even share thoughts across the bond."

The human's eyes widened. That level of intimacy, of connection of minds…it was hard to fathom. Not to mention the commitment that went with it.

"Yikes." Nolan commented. "That's…pretty deep. So I guess you have to be pretty careful who you decide to bond with then, huh?"

"Very much so. Interfacing almost always preludes bonding, as a way to come to know one another in a more intimate manner before the commitment of bonding is made. The sharing of thoughts and emotions is similarly shared, but easier to control and not as revealing, and ends with the encounter."

"I guess that makes sense," Aine said nodding. "Better to know what you're getting into, huh?"

Nolan didn't say anything. There was something about the way Elita was describing sparks merging and interfacing that wasn't sitting right with him…

"With that much sharing," Aine was saying thoughtfully, "I'm not surprised you didn't want to bond yet. It'd take a LOT for me to be willing to open myself up that much to another guy."

"On the contrary, I DID wish to become his bondmate," Elita corrected. "That was not the problem."

"What was it, then?"

"I told you that bonding means merging and connecting sparks forever. When one dies, the other almost always follows shortly after."

Nolan snapped back to attention.

"Whoa whoa WHOA! You mean if he died, you'd die too?!"

"Correct."

"…You guys take the 'till death do us part' thing pretty seriously, don't you?"

"Death does not always follow the other, but only in incredibly rare circumstances. I suspect most do not wish to survive without their bondmate."

"That's…kinda extreme."

"Being bonded means more than just _sharing_ experiences. It means experiencing you're entire world with twice the senses, twice the joy, twice the heartache, always knowing you have this support, this never fading rock to lean against. To lose that, is to lose almost everything."

The kids leaned back in their seats as they absorbed the meaning of this.

"Wow." Nolan said quietly. "That's pretty amazing, actually. So wait, why didn't you want to bond then, if it's supposed to be so great?"

"Was it because of the war?" Aine asked quietly. Elita was silent for another long moment.

"Optimus is the Prime, the one we need to lead us through this war, to lead us when it ends. Every Autobot still alive looks to him to lead them, to protect them. I am the Femme Commander, one of the highest ranking soldiers in the army. If I were to be killed in battle, Optimus would be forced to follow me to the Matrix. I could not risk letting that happen, not while the Autobot cause needed him more than I did."

The teens shared a look. What could they say to that?

"Ah, but the war's over now!" Aine said perkily. "So um…yeah." She trailed off, too embarrassed to say more. Elita chuckled.

"That is a matter to be discussed between Optimus and myself. But thank you for your concern."

"This 'bonding' thing," Nolan said thoughtfully, "it means you know what the other's feeling you said? That you can tell when the other's hurting?"

"Yes."

"So, one bondmate can't hurt the other on purpose, because then he'd feel it too. He'd really be hurting himself if he hurt his bondmate."

"There are those who have abused the bond," Elita admitted, "but because of the shared pain they are few and far between. Only a truly twisted person would be able to deliberately hurt their bondmate."

Twisted. Nice word choice.

"Too bad humans aren't like that," Nolan commented. "I mean, I'm not comfortable with the idea of sharing my every thought and emotion like that…but at least we'd have a lot fewer husbands hurting their wives if they could feel each other's pain."

Everyone fell silent after that, and it continued to stretch on to the point of getting awkward. Nolan thought back over Elita's descriptions of bonding and interfacing beforehand to test the waters, so to speak. Once again, something about her descriptions felt a little off to him, but he couldn't quite place his finger on-

Click.

"HOLY CRAP!" Nolan screeched, eliciting a startled yelp from his sister. "Elita, were you just talking about SEX!?"

"We are not biological creatures, and thus we do not have sexual intercourse the way humans do," Elita said, and she sounded faintly amused. Nolan allowed himself to relax, and even Aine looked relieved.

Then Elita dropped the bombshell.

"But for all intents and purposes, yes, I was referring to Cybertronian sex."

Aine covered her face as she blushed to high heaven, and Nolan was making a choking sound. Elita, having successfully scandalized her charges, was having a good laugh over it.

"We'll be staying here for the night," Elita said, still chuckling as she pulled up behind a billboard. The road was long and empty, and they had left the woods a long time ago.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Nolan got out, still dazed. Aine had yet to recover. Elita was still giggling.

"Laugh it up you," Nolan grumbled as he got out letting Aine change into her pajamas in privacy, which only made the Femme Commander laugh harder.

* * *

The road wasn't terrible crowded at this time in the evening, with most of the humans having already made it home, but the ones that remained gave the imposing military vehicle a wide berth as it barreled down the highway.

The military vehicle himself was steeped in his own mind. He had a general idea of where his quarry had landed, having seen her land before he did, so he had a good idea of where to start. And once he got there, he could track her by the radiation that all Cybertronians emitted, which stood out in stark contrast in this primitive, organic filled world. In the meantime, he kept his long-range scanners on full alert, ready to pick up the slighting scent of her, the tiniest clue of where she might be and where she was going.

She was NOT going to escape him this time. He was going to find her, tear her apart piece by piece while she was still alive, and crush her still pulsing spark with his bare hands as she watched, so he could watch the life fade from her optics himself.

Crude? Yes. Violent? Oh sweet Primus, yes. She deserved no less, after what she did.

He felt the familiar rage course through his body as he remembered. His team had been following her and her select officers, and had tracked them to an asteroid field surrounding a small planetary system. She had peeled away, and his team, believing her to be the better prize, focused their attention on her, allowing the rest of her team to slip away. It didn't matter. They thought, working together, even missing one member as they were, they would be able to capture her alive, a worthy prize and a boon to the Decepticon army, the Femme Commander.

They were wrong.

One by one, she picked them off, separated them from each other with traps and feints, shooting them in the back before she disappeared among the space debris. She was patient, allowing long amounts of time between each attack, waiting for just the right opportunity to reappear and strike again. It had been more like hunting a ghost than a live soldier. They were fools for believing they had stood a chance against her, when she was in her element.

He himself had been in time to watch her shoot one of his own teammates in the head, point blank.

She left him for dead on that asteroid. Now she was going to pay for her mistake.

He picked up the pace, intent on driving all night. He didn't need rest. He couldn't wait to find her. It was different now. An alien planet, terrain she was unfamiliar with, far away from her allies. She was alone, and helpless.

_Elita One…this time, you're life is MINE._

* * *

**AN**: Next time...the identity of the Decepticon is revealed!

Any and all comments will be loved, constructive criticism is appreciated, flames will be laughed on. Let me know what you like or what doesn't work for you, I eat those kind of comments right up!

See the little blue button? It calls to you...


	6. Ch 6 Confrontation

**AN**: Wow, I'm so sorry I took so long. I seriously thought I'd have this up a week ago! *shamefaced* I hope this chapter is worth the wait. The Mysterious Decepticon reveals himself, and Elita get's to strut her stuff!

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, and I don't own "Good Morning Beautiful" by Steve Holy (thank goodness).

* * *

Ch. 6 – Confrontation

"_Good morning beautiful, how was your night? Mine was wonderful, with you by my side…"_

Sam cracked one eye open, but shut it quickly to block out the harsh sunlight. He groaned and tried to roll over as best as the passenger seat would allow. "No it's not," he mumbled. "I'm still sleeping, go away."

Mikaela was still unconscious in the backseat, on leg on the floor and the over wedged against the window as she had tried to fit her tall frame in the limited space. She seemed comfortable enough despite the awkward position though, since Bumblebee hadn't been able to rouse her via country music yet.

"_And when I open my eyes, and see your sweet face, it's a 'Good morning beautiful' day."_

Sam groaned again, still stubbornly refusing to open his eyes. "It's too early for this."

"Actually it's nearly nine," Bumblebee corrected. "And according to human studies, young humans need to begin the day with a good meal so that they'll have energy for the day and develop properly into adulthood."

Sam cracked his eye open again, and for the first time realized that they weren't on the highway anymore. From his slouched, lowered position he could make out the underside of buildings and streetlamps they passed.

"Lemme guess: another drive-through?"

"I'm sorry Sam, but we don't have time for anything else. And you DO need you're nourishment."

"Uh, not to sound like a total ungrateful jerk or whatever, but aren't we on a time crunch here? Where ARE we now, anyway?"

"We passed into Nebraska about two hours ago, and at this point, ten minutes either way isn't going to make much of a difference."

Sam straightened in his seat, raising the back of the chair to its upright position as Bumblebee, with Jazz hanging back, pulled through the Burger King drive through.

Sam almost pointed out that eating the fast-food joint breakfast menu completely negated the whole 'proper meal and nourishment for the young humans' plan, but caught his tongue.

He liked Burger King anyway.

* * *

Meanwhile, several hundred miles away in Ohio, in the bathrooms of a roadside Wendy's, another pair of teenagers were getting ready for the morning.

With a final spit Aine rinsed off her toothbrush, before cupping the water in the hand to sip and rinse out her mouth with. Mournfully she thought about hot showers with shampoo and a breakfast of eggs and toast, but she (and Nolan) had to make do with only a face wash and a change of clothes for hygiene and a couple of granola bars with water for breakfast.

Aine had suggested getting a hot meal, since they were here anyway, but Nolan shot that down quick.

"Fast food is like alcohol," he had reasoned. "You're better off avoiding both, but at the very least you shouldn't have either before noon."

Of course, then they had to explain to the Femme Commander what alcohol was and what made certain foods faster than others, why both were bad, and why people consumed them anyway.

Femme Commander…

Aine frowned in thought as she ran her brush through her hair. Femme…that was the Cybertronian equivalent of 'female,' right? So if there was a Femme Division, then that meant that was where all the femmes were assigned to. Did this mean that the Autobot army deliberately separated its troops between the femmes and their equivalent of males? Were the females not allowed to fight alongside the males?

Aine wasn't a feminist, but she COULD still be offended by blatant sexism on the part of a foreign government.

"That's completely unfair!" Aine exclaimed to the mirror. "That's…that's complete sexism! I thought they were supposed to be an advanced species! That's, like, a paradox or something! And Optimus is supposed to be the leader of all the Autobots, right? Why would he let that happen?"

Her opinion of the Prime taking a sudden nose dive, Aine forcefully shoved her toiletries back into her bag, and stomped out of the bathroom scowling. Poor Nolan, who had been waiting for her, was completely bewildered.

"Uh, Aine?" He asked tentatively, "Are you alright?"

"_I'm_ peachy!" she answered shortly, "but the Prime is a total jerk!"

Aine stomped outside to the waiting Maybach with the bemused and slightly apprehensive Nolan trailing after her. As soon as they were within the privacy of Elita's cabin, Aine gave voice to her most recent frustration.

"Why aren't women on your planet allowed to fight with the men?"

"Excuse me?"

* * *

He circled around the town, bypassing it completely to get to the other side. Elita was IN there, he was certain of it. He had picked up her radiation trail just a few hours ago, and it lead right here but hadn't exited yet. Up until now she had been favoring a straight forward path, so while there were several exits OUT of the town, he was almost positive which one she would take.

With that knowledge, he rushed ahead to lie in wait. A less disciplined Decepticon would have been quivering with excitement and anticipation, or would have rushed in to attack her now, but he was better than that, smarter than that. He didn't care about the possibility of humans lives lost in the crossfire, but if he challenged Elita One in a populated area, the humans would call in their peace keeping and military forces to stop them. Their weapons may have been primitive compared to his own, but they had the advantage of numbers. He might be able to kill a hundred, but they would overwhelm him eventually, and his ability to move discreetly would be compromised until he scanned a new vehicle.

Granted, the one he had NOW wasn't terribly discreet, but at least no one thought it was alien in origin and were quick to give way to him. Besides, in spite of the primitive design, he rather liked it. It suited him.

He didn't know how long he had until his quarry emerged. He needed to prepare while he still had time.

* * *

"The femmes are not separated from the mechs due to law or tradition," Elita was explaining as she drove through the town streets, "but merely through circumstance. It need not _remain_ that way, but by the time the war was fully under way it became most strategically viable for the Femme Division to remain mostly separate, and under my command."

"How'd that happen?" Aine asked, still annoyed but calming down (to Nolan's relief – an annoyed Aine was, like, against the laws of _nature_ or something!).

"Understand first that, in spite of the wars incredible longevity, it began swiftly and quietly," Elita started. "Megatron was quick to recruit as many able bodied soldiers as he could, securing the brightest minds he could find, and destroying the ones who would not side with him. When the war finally broke out in the open, it was swift and brutal in Megatron's favor. The femmes and younglings, lacking the heavier armor and weaponry of the mechs, were particularly vulnerable."

"Like the tsunami," Nolan muttered in realization.

"_The_ tsunami?" Elita queried.

"A few years ago, there was this huge earthquake in the Indian ocean," Aine explained. "It created a huge tsunami that killed about two hundred thousand people, I think, and left at least a million homeless. Women and children were most vulnerable because they weren't as strong and were more easily swept away by the waters."

"An apt comparison then, in terms of swiftness and sheer destruction," Elita concurred, with a hint of sadness. "In any case, while Megatron's attack had caught nearly everyone by surprise, it had not gone completely undetected, or unanticipated. A few were able to discern the coming storm, and moved either to try and stop it, or prepare for when it finally broke."

"Lemme guess: you were one of them?" Nolan ventured.

"I did not see the danger in time to stop it," Elita admitted, a tinge of regret in her voice, "but when the war broke out I did what I could to protect as many lives as possible. As I said, femmes were among the most vulnerable, so I focused my attention on them. I gathered as many as I could, all that I could find, in hopes that our numbers would provide greater protection, since we could not afford to idly wait for assistance and protection. When it became clear that Megatron was prepared for a long war, I shuttled the ones who did not wish to fight to neutral cities. Those who wished to stay and fight, I helped them learn to fight and utilize their own strengths, and together we developed our own way of fighting, our own tactics that utilized our own skills to the highest benefit. We did not have the heavy weaponry for a frontal assault, so while Optimus lead his armies in the open battlefield, my Division would strike from the shadow's, cripple the Decepticon forces with surgical strikes and covert operations. We became experts at guerilla warfare."

Aine was staring at the dashboard with a mix of disbelief, uneasiness, and awe. Nolan looked thoughtful.

"So backing up for a minute," Nolan said as they left the city limits, "the Femme Division was never _officially_ a part of the actual Autobot army, since it was something you created yourself?"

"In the beginning, yes, that was the case. Eventually, Optimus approached me about making my division a formal part of the army. Because it would facilitate communications and coordination, I agreed. However, my division remained largely unchanged, and remained under my command. All that really changed was that I formally became a Commander, with only the Prime as my direct superior."

"Hold on, I thought you said the Femme Division was still separate from the army." Aine said.

"It is, in that I am the only officer who can command them. They answer to Prime only if I am not there, or his orders do not conflict with mine. Officially, he is my superior, but my Division sees that as mostly a formality. He has his soldiers, I have mine, and it just so happens that I have all the femmes"

"So then Optimus is like the general and you're a colonel?" Aine asked. She didn't know how the military hierarchy worked, but Elita got the gist of the real question.

"To use your own government as an example, it would be more fitting to say the Prime is the Commander in Chief, and I am one of his generals."

Oh wow.

Aine and Nolan exchanged a look. Not only where they friends with a giant alien robot soldier, but she was a giant alien robot _general_. How cool was that?

"Does this mean you could command the _entire_ Autobot army?" Nolan asked in awe.

"Not under normal circumstances," Elita corrected. "Because of my unique position, I am not actually in the chain of command. Should something happened to Optimus (Primus forbid), command would go to his 2IC and lead tactician, Prowl. After him is Jazz, the head of Special Operations. But I _am_ an officer, so I have been in positions where I have had to take command of a unit not my own."

Aine settled back in her seat, her fledging feminist fury having been abated, and as she turned this new knowledge of her friend in her mind, she watched the scenery go by. They weren't on the highway now, but rather were taking a more scenic route (at least compared to what they had before). From her side, Aine could see the trees a hundred yards away or so, tall pines densely packed together, with a long stretch of grass between the trees and the road. Perhaps not the most stimulating of views, but it was better than what Nolan had, which was the slope of the steep hill the road was hugging.

Fortunately, Nolan wasn't interested in his lack of a scenic view.

"So wait, you said the war ended up covering the entire planet, right? What happened to the neutral cities and the femmes that didn't want to fight?" he asked.

Elita hesitated a second before she answered, "The neutral cities only offered safety for a short while, before Megatron turned his attention to them. He saw them as his chance to fill his ranks and add to his resources. Any neutral that didn't become a Decepticon was destroyed so that they would not become an Autobot. Sometimes there would be survivors, and a few of the femmes I had sent there would later join my Division. Most, however, I never saw again, and can only assume they have all perished."

The teens sucked in their collective breath. Elita had tried to save so many lives, and they all still...

"But, but you still managed to save a lot of lives!" Aine said. "If it hadn't been for you, I bet all the femmes in your Division would've died by now!"

"The numbers I was able to save do not compare to the ones I could not," Elita said quietly. "I cannot forget them, but I have come to terms with the fact that I cannot change history, only protect the lives I still have."

Aine sunk a little into her seat. "Well…even if you only saved one out of a hundred, I bet that one is still really happy to be alive."

Elita said nothing.

Because the hill was so steep, and the road hugged it so closely, and because Elita's scanners were too damaged to detect the danger soon enough, no one saw the threat hiding a hundred feet up the slope, obscured by the pine trees. Not until Elita turned the corner did it burst forth and come barreling down the slope, using gravity and its impressive size to add to its ramming speed.

Aine never saw it coming.

Nolan only noticed something big, green, and metallic out of the corner of his eye before it slammed into them.

Eltia had been the first to see the danger, and even then she was nearly too late. But it was enough for her to put on a quick, intense burst of speed so that the attacker would hit her back end instead, and not the front where the children were.

Aine screamed as the car spun wilding a full 360 from the force of impact as the rear windows cracked and burst, the rear door badly dented in.

Elita rocked on her wheels as the spin concluded, then revved up her engine as she darted out of the way of another ram, driving off the road and onto the grassy empty field so fast she left skid marks.

Their attacker, a huge green behemoth with six wheels and a gun turret on the roof, followed them, engine growling like an angry beast.

Nolan twisted around in his seat to get another look at the metallic beast, to confirm his suspicions of what, exactly, was doing its level best to crush them. When he saw it, he still almost couldn't believe he was really seeing it.

In his multitude of jobs, it was inevitable he would have a multitude of coworkers, some being more colorful than others. One in particular had been a high school sophomore with an obsession for anything related to the military, in particular guns, weapons, and vehicles. So enthused he was, he would often share his considerable knowledge with anyone who had the dubious luck of being stuck with him when business was slow, going so far as to show pictures on his phone and sharing scores of technical data of what made it so awesome and dangerous.

This was how Nolan was able to recognize their current attacker.

"That's a GILA!" he exclaimed in shock, disbelief, and dread.

"A what?" Aine asked/shrieked as Elita spun the car around with a squeal to _face_ the monster.

Any further explanation Nolan might have been able to conjure up was cut off as their seatbelts snapped off and he and Aine found themselves being literally thrown from their seats with a violent jerk, their bags in the truck quick to follow. Nolan had barely finished bouncing before Elita was transforming, firing bullets of energy or plasma or whatever the HELL soldiers on her planet used for ammo at the enormous GILA with a wrist mounted gun Nolan never even realized she HAD. He wanted to yell something at her, about how she was exposing herself to the driver, they had to get out, and she was going to get humans killed if she fought back, and just why was the US army trying to kill them anyway?, but Elita beat him to the punch.

"Get back to the road, go up the hill, and hide until I come for you," Elita ordered, firing at the GILA's tires.

As Nolan was learning, Elita was one of those people who, when she gave an order, no matter what the situation, you followed, _period_.

Nolan scrambled to his feet, grabbed his sister by the hand, and pulled/dragged her toward the road and the hill that grew on the other side of it, to reach high ground and (hopefully) relative safety.

The GILA had other ideas, however.

Nolan and Aine skidded to a halt and actually fell back on their rumps as the military vehicle (which really had no right being this deep in the US at all), stopped in front of them, forcing Elita to cease fire lest she risk harming the children.

For a heart-stopping moment, nothing happened. That moment was enough for Nolan to finally realize an important fact:

The GILA had no driver.

Then the GILA exploded, just like Elita had when he had met her for the first time.

Transfixed, the pair watched them complicated process of splitting and shifting of part that was both familiar and alien, as the monster truck stood on two legs, towering over them and blocking the sun with his (for if nothing else, they could tell this one was NOT a femme) bulk.

Nolan stared up at the robotic visage, wide-eyed and too shock and scared to run, his brain too overwhelmed by this new development to order his body to move. The robot looked down at him, and unlike Eltia's expressive, even attractive, face, his was covered with a red visor and mask, completely hiding his expressions and making him impossible to read.

Aine glanced back over her shoulder at Elita, silently praying that she shoot the robot, grab them, protect them, do SOMETHING already! Because she looked back, she could see Elita's reaction to the newcomer: her gun was slightly lowered, and she was gazing at the robot with shock and…recognition?

"My oh my, two little squishies far away from home," the visored mech cooed. While his face might have been impossible to read, the gleeful malice in his voice was unmistakable. "Don't you know it's dangerous to wander so far from home?"

He raised a rifle that was bigger than Nolan himself, more like a cannon really, and aimed it at the children. Nolan could see straight down the barrel, and the glow that was growing it its depths.

_Light at the end of the tunnel_, Nolan thought inanely.

"Bye bye squishies."

Before the mech could fire and reduce the humans to wayward atoms, a blast to the shoulder rocked him back, forcing his shot to go wild.

With an explosion (this time a literal one) of deafening sound and light, a block of trees was reduced to chard stumps and earth, the tremors of the force being felt even by Nolan and Aine where they still sat.

The Decepticon (for what else could he have been?) glared hatefully at Elita.

"Your fight is with me, Onslaught," she intoned, her voice icy and powerful like an arctic wind.

"So good you remember me Elita," the Decepticon – Onslaught – purred. "Surprised to see me? You DID leave me for dead on that asteroid along with the rest of my gestalt. Didn't think you'd see me again, did you?" He swung his rifle/cannon around to bear. "I came a long way to find you, Elita. Now be a good femme, and die."

Onslaught blasted away, but Nolan knew he couldn't afford to stick around and see what happened next. He and Aine had to get OUT of the line of fire before they were killed by a stray shot or misstep. Reaffirming his grip on his sisters smaller hand, he pulled her up with him and they ran for their lives across the grass and across the road, scrambling up the steep hill slope as fast as they could, resorting to clambering on all fours at points when a foot slip on the loose dirt and slippery grass.

Amazing how fast the human can move when fueled by adrenaline and terror.

They didn't stop until they were halfway up the hill, where the trees grew and the slope leveled off some. Only then did they look back at the battle of the metal titans, heaving in air, their lungs greedy for oxygen, their legs trembling and aching from the strain of trying to run straight up.

Onslaught was taller, broader, had heavier armor and, between the huge rifle and the missile launcher on his shoulder, most certainly had the edge in pure firepower. He was favoring holding his ground and firing his rifle at the elusive femme, who kept moving and dancing around him, neatly avoiding each shot and coming in a little closer as she circled him. Which, Nolan realized as he kept watching, wasn't that hard.

He had compared Onslaughts weapon to a rifle, but it was more like a shotgun: it had a powerful projection that made its hits devastating when it hit home, and created a rain of dangerous shrapnel even when it didn't, but it couldn't be fired rapidly enough and needed a second or two between each shot to reload (or whatever). It probably had one hell of a kickback too, what with all that power in each shot, and while Onslaughts bulk would help a lot in keeping the barrel steady, it would still have an effect on the overall accuracy of the weapon. So long as Elita timed it right, she could easily avoid the full blast, though she wasn't always fortunate enough or quick enough to miss the shrapnel entirely. She was already showing the damage in nicks and scratches.

On the other hand, Elita, with her lighter armor and weapon, was free to move with speed and agility that Onslaught simply couldn't hope to match. Even though she was moving more than Onslaught was, she wasn't wasting any energy either, moving in quick bursts and not wasting a single motion, a single bit of energy, using her energy as efficiently as possible. Her wrist mounted blaster was like a pistol: not as powerful, but it could fire fast and often, and she was peppering Onslaught every chance she got. His heavy armor protected him well, but the extra weight meant he didn't have a hope of avoiding her shots the way she avoided his. He could take more, but he ended up receiving more than she did, and the damage was showing on him as well.

Right now they were at a stalemate, but by its very nature it could not last for much longer. Elita would either miss a step and Onslaught would blow her away, or she'd get in close enough to force Onslaught to abandon the gun and…well, Nolan didn't know what Elita was planning once she got that close, but if she had a plan then it couldn't end well for the Decepticon.

"Nolan, what are we going to DO?" Aine asked, her voice trembling and still breathless from the run as the ground shook again.

Nolan, for once, had no answer for her. He only tugged at her hand to pull her away. They needed to put as much distance between themselves and the fight before a stray shot killed them both.

"Omigod, this is so AWSOME! Are they making a movie?"

What the _hell_??

Nolan and Aine peered down the hill in sheer disbelief. They had thought that a giant robo-death match was incredible? It didn't hold a candle to what they were looking at now.

A blue car was sitting there on the road, parked to the side with the top down, revealing the five occupants, three guys and two girls, about collage age if Nolan had to guess.

Another of Onslaughts shots missed it's intended, dancing target, and boomed into the field behind her, sending another tremor through the earth that even the younger teens could feel from up the hill. The new guys shrieked and laughed about how 'wicked cool' that was, and 'so totally realistic!'

"You have GOT to be kidding me," Nolan muttered, still not _quite_ believing his eyes. "Do they have a death wish?? And when did they get here, anyway?"

"I don't think they believe it's really real," Aine said, fear and worry for their friend put on the back burner for the moment in favor of bewilderment as the situation took a sudden turn for the surreal. "They must have showed up when we were coming up the hill, that's why we didn't notice them before."

Nolan's own bewilderment was shoved away when he realized that one of the guys, the one in the front passenger seat to be exact (wow, the third guy in the back between the girls must had won the coin toss), was holding a camcorder and was recording the fight, providing commentary about how they stumbled upon a secret filming session for an as-of-yet unannounced movie that they HAD to go see when it came out now.

"Oh SHIT!!" he exclaimed. "Aine, stay here. I have to get that camera!"

"What? No Nolan, come back!"

Aine's pleas were ignored as Nolan hurried down the hill again, nearly falling twice and rolling down the rest of the way in his haste.

If these dorks wanted to risk their lives for a good show, Nolan really didn't give a damn. But if that footage found its way into the wrong hands, or hell, ended up on the evening news, then they were completely screwed. Elita might have some super-advanced card up her sleeve to avoid the government and media hounds if they got wind of this, but Nolan wasn't willing to take that chance.

"What's the matter, little Autobot?" Onslaught mocked, apparently not yet aware he was on Candid Camera. "Not so tough when you have nowhere to hide, aren't you? I always knew you were a coward, that's why you never faced any of us in a real battle: you knew you never had a chance against any of us in a fair fight."

With that, Onslaught fired off his missile launcher.

Elita did something then so incredible, Nolan was forced to stop at the bottom of the hill and just gape.

Rather that leaping or stepping out of the way as she had been doing before, Elita held her round and merely twisted her upper body to avoid the missile. Demonstrating a combination of reflexes, speed, and quick thinking that no human could hope to match, especially under such stressful circumstances, Elita grabbed the missile as it flew past, spun it around, and used its own thrust to launch it right back at Onslaught.

The missile hit him dead center of his chest, toppling him backwards with enough force that his feet actually left the ground for a second, and he hit the ground with a mighty crash.

Elita cocked up her wrist pistol near her face, her expression serious and hard, almost as if she was posing for an army poster (and looking fantastically scary at it). At that moment, she was the very image of deadly grace and fatal beauty.

"I can always deal with Decepticons," she said, her voice as soft and powerful as the ocean tide. "Elita One knows no fear."

At that moment, Nolan had a full appreciation as for WHY Elita was one of the highest ranking officers in the Autobot army.

Incredibly, even though he now sported a charred, sparking hole in this chest, Onslaught still wasn't down for the count (what did it take to KILL this guy??). He struggled to a sitting position as Elita approached, and fired off his shotgun again, which Elita was forced to leap back and to the side to avoid.

"Primus slaggit, why won't you die already?!" He roared, his former good humor (such as it was) having evaporated.

"You go girl! Shoot him dead! Show him what you're made of!" A high pitched voice cut through Nolan's head, and with a start he remembered what he was doing down here in the first place.

Camera Guy was still happily recording the fight, now joined by one of the girls and the backseat guy with their video phones. "Dude, this is gonna be gold on YouTube," he cheered. "Any one seen the camera crew yet? I wanna get them in the shot if I can."

Instead of an answer, Camera Guy found his beloved camcorder being forcefully wretched from his grasp, nearly taking his hand with it as the strap slid forcefully off the appendage.

"HEY! What the hell man??"

Camera Guy spotted some teenager running a little way down the road with his camera and a couple of cell phones his friends has been using to take pictures (said friends were currently vocalizing their displeasure at the robbery).

"Hey! Give that back!" Camera Guy yelled, hopping over the closed car door and giving chase. He didn't have to go far, because the younger teenager (to his shock and horror) now threw the Camcorder and phones to the asphalt with all the force he could muster and proceeded to stomp on them with all his weight to destroy all video evidence as quickly and utterly as physically possible.

"Hey hey HEY!" Camera Guy yelled, pulling the boy off the electronics with a hard pull on his shirt neck. "What the HELL are you doing? That was my camera!"

"What the hell are YOU doing?" The kid shot back. "Are you blind or just stupid? You've all got to get out of here before you're all KILLED!"

Camera Guy blinked, and actually chuckled. "What? My god, you don't think this is all real, do you? It's gotta be a movie or something, something super secret…and I had it on FILM you jerk!"

Camera Guy started pulling/dragging the kid back to the car, using his weight advantage to leverage him along as he tried to resist. "You are totally paying for it. AND for my friend's cell phones too!"

"Forget the freaking camera you idiot! You have to get OUT of here before-"

One shot went wide and blasted a crater in the hillside, raining dirt and debris on their heads.

The teen and the twenty-something both hit the ground, covering their heads with their hands as the debris hit their backs, the shocked and scared screams of the people still in the car filling the background once the noise of the explosion died away. Nolan could feel his ears still ringing from the blast.

Still up on the hill, Aine had slid to the ground, knocked down by the blast, her breathing increasingly short and erratic as the tell-tale trembles and shakes overtook her body and nausea began to rise up.

_No, no, not again, not again, it's too soon, I can't have another one now…_

As the dust cleared, Aine could see the road and the people again.

Her heart stopped.

Nolan and the Camera Guy were both face down on the ground, not moving.

"Oh no…" she whispered. "No, no, no no no…NOLAN!"

She pushed off and nearly slid down the hill slope, heedless of the danger or the other humans. All she saw was her brother, her most precious person, on the ground, silent and still.

"Nolan! Nolan! Nolan!" She cried as she ran to his side. As she came close to him, Nolan finally stirred and pushed himself up.

"Aine? What…I told you to stay on the hill!"

Aine went weak with relief as she dropped next to her brother's side, too happy to care about the pain to her knees.

"Nolan, thank god you're ok. Are you hurt? How's your head? How many fingers am I holding up?"

"I'm fine, I didn't hit my head, and two fingers and a thumb." Nolan coughed (stupid dust). He looked over at the fight, and his gaze happened across their bags, forgotten and still sitting in the grass off to the side where they had fallen, as yet unharmed.

But for how long before the fight shifted their way?

Nolan focused on his backpack, and felt his chest freeze up.

_Mom…I have to get Mom!_

"Aine, stay here!" he ordered, before clambering to his feet and, in a fit of seemingly suicidal single-mindedness, rushed for the bags, heedless of Aine's attempts to stop him.

Aine watched him go in disbelief. He was risking his life for their luggage? Where his priorities really THAT screwed up?

Aine felt strong hands on her shoulder, pulling her to her feet and dragging her backwards.

"C'mon, we've gotta get outta here!" Camera Guy shouted, having finally decided he had had enough.

Aine struggled against the grip, but he must have played varsity football or something, because his grip, while not painful, was like iron. "No! No! I'm not leaving my brother!"

Camera Guy couldn't pretend he had the faintest idea of how this girl and her brother got there, or what was going on, but his conscience wasn't going to let him leave this girl behind when the safety of the area was suddenly dubious at best.

But it didn't mean he had to be nice about it.

"We'll get your brother later, just get in the DAMN CAR ALREADY?!"

With that, he swung an arm under her legs and practically dumped her into his friend's laps in the back seat. The other College Kids tried to hold her offer empty comfort that it'll be alright, but she wasn't having any of it.

"No! No! Let me go! I can't leave I can't leave!" she screeched, wriggling and twisting, trying to escape her saviors and captors, adrenaline shooting through her body as the shakes over took her body. Before she knew it, she was screaming.

"Ahhh, ahhh, AHHHHH! AHHHH!"

"Sweetie, calm down," one of the girls said gently, trying to keep calm in spite of her own growing fear and uncertainty for the younger girl's sake. "It's going to be okay, we're gonna get out here and call somebody, get you back home and get this straightened out, 'cause no way is all this legal-"

"No no NO! Nolan, NOLAN! HELP ME! AAAHHHHHHH!"

"She's freaking out! I can't hold her!" The lone backseat guy yelled his arms around Aine's small shoulder. The girls joined him in restraining Aine before she could hurt herself or anyone else, one girl holding her legs, the other her head, brushing her hair in a soothing gesture. "Shh, shh, please, calm down, we're not going to hurt you, we're trying to help you, and you're brother too."

"Mike, what are you doing??" The driver called out to Camera Guy. Rather than having gotten back in the car, Camera guy – Mike – was dashing toward the crushed electronics.

"Just a sec! I need my camera!"

Mike sprinted back down the road while his friends yelled just how stupid he was being, his prize broken but still in one piece.

Suddenly Aine's petrified screams were replaced by gasping and wheezing, like her diaphragm had suddenly stopped working right, her eyes staring straight up, unseeing and wide with fright, her hands clutching and scratching at her chest over her heart.

"Oh my god, I think we need to get her to a hospital!" the girl brushing her hair exclaimed in a panic.

Nolan, not realizing the predicament his sister was in, closed in on the first backpack, which happened to belong to Aine. He swooped down and grabbed it with one hand, swinging it onto his shoulder without breaking his stride, still sprinting for his own backpack and the real prize, until a metal leg staggered backwards into his path.

This time, rather than freezing, Nolan let out a startled yelp before darting around the metal pillars that were Onslaughts legs, still hell-bent on his retrieval mission.

Onslaught whirled his head around at the human he had nearly stepped on, one of the creatures Elita had brought with her.

In sheer pettiness, Onslaught took a second to swing his gun around and shoot the human at point blank range. But a shot to his gun hand stopped him, and the rifle was blown out of his hand completely.

"You keep forgetting who your true threat is," Elita chided. "It is no wonder how I was able to bring down your entire gestalt, if this is how sloppy their leader is."

Onslaught saw red, forgot about the human entirely, and he charged at Elita with an angry roar, just like she wanted.

This fight had to end NOW, before the humans were hurt or more could arrive. If one of them had had the presence of mind to call for help, then their time was almost up.

Elita smacked her thigh, which opened up a small compartment that spat out a small brown cube with several blinking lights and a few switches on one side. In a single, fluid motion, Elita caught the cube and slammed it into the ground in front of her, and Onslaught, recognizing the device, stopped in his tracks.

"This S-class EMP grenade has a radius of five miles and will detonate exactly three minutes after I remove my hand," Elita said, still crouched down, her voice as calm and cool as ice. "In my alt mode, I will only need one, perhaps one and a half to get out of the danger zone. If you do not leave now, you will not be so fortunate.

Elita lifted her hand, and a red light on the cubes top surface began to blink and beep ominously.

For a moment, Onslaught held his ground, and he and Elita were in a standoff.

He had two options: try and kill Elita here and drive five miles away in less than three minutes while he was injured, or retreat now and finish this later.

As much as he wanted his revenge, he wasn't stupid enough to overestimate his abilities, or at the point of being suicidal about victory.

Onslaught wanted to slam a fist into the ground in frustration and anger, but he didn't have the time.

"Next time you won't be so lucky," he growled. Onslaught transformed, and booked it out of there, down the road and back in the direction Elita had come from.

Elita dashed over to Nolan, and as the boy grabbed his own backpack, the femme scooped him up.

"Hey!" Nolan exclaimed, more in surprise than annoyance, as Elita practically flew to the road with the human cradled to her chassis (to Nolan's embarrassment, despite the fact that femme and human female anatomy weren't THAT similar).

Nolan could see the car of collage kids still in the road, the Camera Guy just getting into the driver's seat. And in the back seat…

"Elita!" he yelled. "They've got Aine!"

'They' could hear the sound of something big and heavy coming their way and as one they looked up to see one of the giant robots heading their way.

'Panic' could not describe their mind sets.

"Go go go go!" Mike screeched, snapping his seatbelt. The driver complied, slamming the accelerator to the floor and tearing out of there with a screech of burning rubber.

"No! No! Don't let them get away!" Nolan yelled as the blue car pulled away. Gently dropping Nolan to the ground, Elita transformed and popped a door open for Nolan, who literally dove in. Elita didn't even wait for him to properly sit before she hit the accelerator and hit her top speed (which is a good deal faster than a human built Maybach 57S should be capable of) in less than three seconds, chasing after the blue car that had taken her girl.

And so the three vehicles, one real and two fake, tore off in two different directions along the same lonely little road as fast as they could.

The field was quiet again, though it would show the scars of the quick but violent and intense battle for some time yet. For a minute or two, all was silent and still, with the exception of a beeping brown cube the size of a small chest.

The beeping increased in frequency for a few seconds, until it suddenly stopped and the red light switched to green.

The cube exploded into a thousand pieces and scorched the grass and earth, leaving a few small fires that would die out quickly in the moist air. But the real danger, the EMP blast, would go unnoticed by all but the most sensitive of the organic creatures.

That is not to say it would go completely undetected.

Already dozens of satellites were picking up on the blast and sending the information back down to earth for the military, the government, and the meteorologist's benefits.

* * *

Of course, Telatraan-2, while lacking a satellite of its own, made up for it by picking up transmissions made by the hundreds of satellites conveniently already in orbit. So the Autobots already knew what happened before Keller even relayed it to them.

That didn't mean they had a better idea of what it actually meant.

"What the frag was THAT?" Ironhide exclaimed, more in frustration than in actual query.

"From the intensity and the radius of the EMP blast, I would say it came from a high-grade grenade that special ops teams favor," Ratchet answered anyway. "Though for the love of Primus, I can't imagine why anyone would want to detonate one in the middle of nowhere. EMP grenades are about knocking out electrical equipment; they're completely useless in a natural setting. Waste of a grenade. Not unless…" Ratchets eyes brightened in realization, "it was a fight between the two Cybertronians. We already know one in a Decepticon. If they fought, then the other MUST be an Autobot!"

"Or the Decepticons are in-fighting again," Ironhide countered. "At least we know they're not in cahoots with each other. But if they have EMP grenades, who knows what else they have." Ironhide raised a fist to slam into the wall, remembered where he was, and slammed his fist into his other hand instead. It was less visually effective, true, but better than bringing the human-built and not-yet-completely-Autobot-reinforced walls and structure down. "Slaggit Prime, you should have let me go instead of Bumblebee!"

"The mission objective hasn't changed," Optimus said, ever calm and patient in the face of Ironhides rising ire. "The Decepticons haven't done anything yet that threatens human's lives or exposure. At least we know we will not have to face a united attack in the near future or a repeat of Mission City, but we still need to wait for Jazz and Bumblebee to complete their mission."

"So we're just going to wait for the Decepticons to make the first move?" Ironhide asked.

"In truth, I don't like this either," Ratchet agreed, folding his arms. "Sam and Mikaela are in greater danger now."

"We already know there was risk before we sent them," Optimus pointed out. "I trust Bumblebee and Jazz to keep the children out of the real danger, but they are still needed for this mission. I will inform them of this new development, so they will be prepared."

"Optimus, at this rate they're going to need more firepower," Ironhide persisted. "I have the most, so I should-"

"It is too late for that now. They can't afford to wait for you to catch up. If the other IS an Autobot, then Jazz and Bumblebee need to find him as soon as possible. We have already made our choices, Ironhide, now we must live with the consequences."

Ironhide grumbled to himself, as he always did when he knew he had lost an argument, but raised no more objections.

He understood the situation, but Primus slaggit he didn't have to be happy about it.

* * *

Onslaught slammed a fist into the ground, creating a small crater and sending the birds flying in panic. The Decepticon took no note of them.

He almost had her, he could have had her! He had superior armor and weapons, he could have worn her down, he could have destroyed her! But she had to pull that fragging kamikaze move and force his retreat. Now she knew he was here and after her. He won't be able to surprise her again, now that she knew to be on alert for him.

Onslaught slammed his fist into the ground again for good measure, then straightened and moved to cross his arms, only to wince as he was reminded of the hole in his chest. Right, he'd better take care of that.

Pulling out his feild kit, Onslaught made himself comfortable and started to repair what damage he'd could. He'd have to scavange for parts later, and he was no medic, but a good patch job would do for the moment. Besides, he was built for the battlefield, and had been given heavy armor and several redundant parts in case of heavy damage. The blast to his chest only looked bad from the outside, but it wasn't nearly as crippling or painful as it looked. He'd be back to optimum power within a day. While he worked, he considered his situation.

He was going to need a radically new strategy because, as much as he hated to admit it, outside of a one-on-one fight Elita had the advantage here. This world was alien to them both, but she was trained and experienced in adapting and using whatever the area had to offer to her fullest advantage, while he was a straight up soldier who, while the leader of his gestalt, ultimately took orders from higher officers. The open battlefield was still his best bet, so long as he could prevent the Commander from pulling another trick like that.

What he needed, Onslaught mused, was a way to get Elita exactly where he wanted her: alone, out in the open, with nowhere to hide or run to, and no more tricks up her sleeves.

The former gestalt leader recalled the two human's Elita had been carrying with her. Why exactly she stooped so low to allow the filthy creatures inside of her, Onslaught couldn't hope to fathom. But she had protected them, twice now, and the Autobots, even the less scrupulous ones, were notoriously soft-hearted…

Behind his face mask, Onslaught grinned as his plan began to fall into place.

Brute force was very nice to have on your side sometimes, but as he was remembering, the mind was a far more potent weapon.

* * *

**AN**: Fess up, how many of you thought the mask-and-visor mech was Soundwave? Raise your hand and send a comment! ;)

Funny story regarding the Antagonist: for the longest time, I was planning to just use and OC. I needed an antagonist that had a vendetta against Elita, and in G1 the closest character to fit that was Shockwave. But when I thought about it, it just wasn't in his personality to seek personal revenge. Same with Soundwave. They're both very logical, and while I'm sure with the right motivation they'd become quite vengeful, I just couldn't make it work. Hence the OC.

But after I posted the 4th chapter, I was sitting in class trying to come up with a name for my OC and was going through the Decepticon names in my head for inspiration. I thought of Devastator, which lead me to the Stunticons, and suddenly I had a eureka moment: 'Motormaster!'

Then Onslaught elbowed his way in and insisted he'd be a better villain, since he was smarter and one of the Combaticons had already been killed in the movie (Brawl/Devastator). BTW, I don't remember who exactly it was that pointed that out to me, but I think it was **Slink T. Ferret**. So everyone thank him, because he's (maybe) the reason why Onslaught is here!

If you want to see a pic of Onslaughts alt. mode click /ybi/1/24/56/shinecommerce/folder/294/img_294_12791_5?.com

Any and all reviews will be loved and cherished, even if it's just to say 'good story', 'you suck!', or 'grapes are sexy.' Though personally, I'd prefer the first one.


	7. Ch 7 The Obligatory Car Chase Scene

**AN**: Heads up my lovely, lovely readers. Most of you have probably heard about this already, but for those that haven't, the powers that be have created a separate category for '07 movie verse stories, over in the (duh) Movie section. I've decided to comply with this new rule, so before I upload the next chapter, I'll be moving my story there.

* * *

Ch. 8 – The Obligatory Car Chase Scene

"Holy freaking mother of god! What was that!!" backseat guy, Kyle, was shouting, awkwardly holding Aine in place. "Someone tell me just what the hell happened back there, 'cause no freaking WAY was that a movie set! I think that thing tried to kill us!"

"Would you just shut up already Kyle, you're upsetting her!" Clarisse snapped. "Oh forget it, give her to me, you're freaking her out even worse."

Mike had pretty much dumped the strange girl onto Kyle's lap, but now they eased her over so that she was sitting with her butt between Clarisse's knees and her feet up in Kyle's lap. Not the most comfortable position, but the older girl wasn't about to complain and Kyle knew better than to try.

The young teenager's breathing was short and choppy, and when Clarisse held her close and tucked her head under her chin, she could feel her forehead against her throat, flesh clammy and cool. At least she wasn't trying to get away or scream anymore, but now she was curled up against Clarisse and hugging herself as she trembled uncontrollably. None of them were med students, but it was clear that the girl was having _some_ kind of episode, and after such an incredibly stressful experience, who could blame her?

Clarisse rubbed her back in soothing circles and rubbed the girls arm. "Shh, shhh, it's okay, we're gonna get you to a doctor and call the police," she assured her, keeping her voice quiet and gentle, like she was trying to rock a baby to sleep. "They'll get your brother back, and we'll get this whole mess straightened out. Danny, she's still having trouble breathing right, put the roof up and get the wind off us."

Danny complied, and the car roof unfolded and straightened over their heads, blocking the wind and snapping into place. Getting the wind off them seemed to help their extra passenger, and while her breathing was still shallow, at least she wasn't hyperventilating anymore, though she wasn't up to talking yet and her lucidity was still questionable. Not to mention she was still trembling violently, and it wasn't because she was cold.

They were slowing down a little, now that they were away from the fight, and Mike, their camera man, twisted around in his seat up front to look back the way they came.

What he saw nearly made him pee his pants.

"It's still following us!"

"WHAT!?"

The five friends all looked back as well, and yes indeed there was a slightly scratched up red car chasing after them like the devil, and catching up fast.

"Oh my god, we're all going to die!"

"Shut UP Kyle! Faster Danny! Faster!"

"No, really? I was thinking of pulling over and having a picnic!" Driver Danny shot back. He slammed on the accelerator and the blue car jerked forward as it jumped in speed. Clarisse held the girl more tightly, Kyle was panicking again, and the other girl, Jaycee, looked back at the red car.

"It's still catching up! Go faster!"

"This is as fast as it goes!" Danny shouted, his voice taking on a higher pitch. "Damn it, where's the highway patrol when you need them?!"

"Get to the city!" Clarisse said. "It won't attack with witnesses I bet, plus we can get the police, AND find this girl a doctor before she gets worse!"

"NO!" Kyle immediately protested. "It'll catch if we do! Get on the highway, we can outrun it!"

"We CAN'T outrun it you dumbass! That's the problem!"

"The city's at least a hundred miles away! We won't make it!"

The red car had closed the distance between then, easily catching up and pulling along-side them.

"Ram it! Ram it!" Jaycee screeched.

"No!" Kyle countered. "That'll just piss it off worse!"

The red cars passenger window rolled down, and a familiar young visage stuck its head out. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted over the wind "Pull over! It's ok! We just want Aine back!"

What the _hell_??

"It's got a kid with it?" Danny exclaimed incredulously. "What're you DOING kid??"

"Would you just pull over already before--"

BANG!

The five friends screamed as the red car bumped against them, jerking the brunette boy forward out the window marginally before he fell back in again.

"Whoa!" Nolan exclaimed as he fell awkwardly back into his seat. Elita swerved and lightly bumped against the blue car again, eliciting another round of screams.

"What are you doing?!" Nolan shrieked.

"I am encouraging the humans to pull their car over immediately," Elita answered calmly, as she gave another bump, joggling Nolan in his seat again.

"Hey Elita, remember how you said you needed a human around to help out with cultural no-no's?"

"Yes."

"Slamming against other peoples cars in a high speed chase is considered a cultural no-no!!"

**HONK HONK!**

Nolan looked out the front window to see the 18-wheeler they were about to collide into head on.

**HONK HONK!**

"AAAHHHHH!"

Elita hit the brakes to drop back behind the blue car and swerved neatly into the right lane behind them with seconds to spare before the huge monster truck could roll right over them. The driver gave them the one finger salute as he passed, but Nolan was too busy trying to get his heart started again to care.

"And driving on the left side of the road is another," he added weakly.

Meanwhile, Danny the Driver had had enough, and in an attempt to get away from the alien car for hell, he turned onto the ramp and got onto the highway heading south.

"What are you doing?!" Clarisse exclaimed. "We need to get to the city!"

"We don't know it won't hurt anyone if we do, and we can't let it get near anyplace crowded, or else a lot of people are going to get hurt," Danny told her firmly, his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel.

Elita had been quick to follow them, but now the chase took on a new level of difficulty. No more where they one on one on a long and mostly empty road, but now the highway was peppered with other cars, delivery trucks, and SUVs filled with innocent civilians.

Danny tried to evade Elita, shifting lanes every few seconds and trying to squeeze into every space he could, earning plenty of irate honks and unflattering insults and hand gestures for every over maneuver. Elita, on the other hand, deftly drove around an past the other cars as neatly and quickly as a needle through cloth, occasionally dropping back to make use of an empty space and pass into a lane with a long road and ultimately close the distance even more.

The further they went, the more crowded the highway became, and the more limited Danny and Elita's options were, and the more desperate the former became.

Aine's breathing was becoming increasingly short again, and she was clinging to Clarisse for dear life. Occasionally she'd let out a little sound that resembled a cross between a cry and a gag, as if she couldn't decide if she'd rather scream or vomit so was trying to do both. Clarisse held her close and had been whispering to her in an attempt to calm her down.

"Oh man, don't worry baby, just relax and take deep slow breaths, and just try not to throw up all over us ple-AAASE!"

Clarisse's entreaty turned into a startle scream as Danny, spying an opening, swerved the car sharply across two lanes of traffic and forcing himself between two cars to do it, and disappeared behind a Wal-Mart delivery trunk. The space closed up too quickly for Elita to follow, and Danny and his friends enjoyed a short reprieve and could almost believe they were coming into the clear. But Elita would not be thwarted so easily, and she was quick to pounce on another opening and creating her own, nearly clipping a minivan by mere inches at one point (and who would have thought a soccer mom could be so vulgar?). Within less than five minutes she was bumper to bumper with them, and the highway dance started over again.

At one point the blue and red cars dance became so intricate as they fought to run and chase within the shifting maze of other cars and vans, Nolan actually lost sight of their quarry.

"What the – where'd they go?" he wondered. To the left, the right, ahead, as far as he could see their blue car was completely gone. They hadn't passed any exit ramps recently, they had to still be on the road, so where…

Nolan, suddenly getting a bad feeling, twisted around in his seat to look back – and made eye contact with the equally befuddled Danny. For a few seconds, they just stared at each other, both of them having the exact same thought:

_When did THAT happen?_

"Scooby-doo, where are you?" Jaycee sang, and promptly burst out in a loud and hysterical cackle. Kyle and Clarisse gave her worried looks, Kyle edging away and Clarisse shielding Aine from the manically laughing girl.

The cartoon cliché was quickly forgotten when Elita hit the brakes and spun her tires to drop to the left of the blue car in less than two seconds, her rearview mirror about even with the nose of the blue car. Danny yelped and hit the accelerator, only to stop when he realized that the cars ahead were too close, for him to pass ahead, as was the one behind them. They were effectively boxed in.

Gently, carefully, with complete control, Elita eased over and tapped against the blue cars side. But rather than a bump like before, now she was pushing the car nose, forcing Danny to go right…

…and down the exit ramp Elita was guiding him towards.

"Oh no way this is going to be good," Mike groaned.

The ramp had let them off in a new city, in a commercial area. With less traffic to hamper their movements, Danny took the opportunity to peel away and tear down the road. But Elita wasn't about to let him go that easily.

She matched his speed and caught up to him within seconds, pulling along his right side this time, and giving the back end of the blue car a good push, forcing the human driver to turn to avoid fish-tailing.

Aine's white-knuckled grip on Clarisse's shirt was relaxing, and her breathing was slowing again as the final shreds of sheer panic finally began to fade away from her mind, leaving it clear again for rational thought.

The car jerked again as Elita forced Danny to make another turn, and Aine looked around herself. The others were scared, it was plain to see, but Aine caught a glimpse of the luxury sports car and broke out in a tired but heartfelt smile.

"Elita…Nolan…" she whispered with a smile. _They came for me. _

For the first time since she was taken, Aine had the strength and the presence of mind to speak up. "Hey guys, it's ok. That car, she's a friend of mine. She won't hurt you; I think she just wants you to pull over."

Kyle, Mike, and Jaycee gave her incredulous looks. "Did a rock hit your head back there?" Mike questioned. Aine frowned.

"I'm serious! She's my friend, she probably thinks you're trying to kidnap me, and I know you guys are only trying to help and mean well, but really, it's okay, just let me out and it'll all be okay."

"Are completely out of your mind?" Kyle asked seriously. The car bumped again.

"I'm telling the truth!" Aine went on. "I'm not making this up! I'm WITH HER! That's why my brother and I were way out in the middle of nowhere in the first place! That other guy, HE was the bad guy, and SHE'S one of the good guys! You've got to believe me! Just stop the car; I'll prove it to you!"

Clarisse gave her a pitying look.

"Sweetie, I think you're a little confused. That thing's dangerous, and we've gotta call someone before it has a chance to hurt anyone else."

"Why won't you people listen to me??"

Again and again, Elita guided Danny, until she had herded the blue car and crew to the industrial section of the city, to an old construction site that had been abandoned earlier that year due to zoning complications.

Danny turned so sharply he dragged for a few feet on the dirt before his tires regained their traction and shot forward like a blue bullet across the site – and slammed on the brakes.

The car squealed to a stop and all the passengers jerked violently forward against their seat belts, Clarisse's iron grip on Aine being the only thing preventing the smaller girl from slamming bodily into the back of the driver's seat.

"Danny, what the hell are you…"

Clarisse's incredulous protest died as she saw their dilemma: a tall, graffiti covered cement wall ahead, a pile of I-beams to the left, and a high and long hill of gravel to the right.

And from behind, the ominous rumble of an engine.

Jaycee covered her head with her hands and started making a low moaning sound of distress, while everyone else, exchanged helpless, scared looks.

Aine raised her head and peeked over Clarisse's shoulder, to see a sweetly familiar red Maybach and her brother disembarking the vehicle with two backpacks in hand. Aine broke in a wide grin at the prospect of this mess ending and being reunited with her brother.

The other four passengers and driver were far less happy, and as the tell-tale sound of clicking metal trickled into the car, it was accompanied by the clicks of seat belts being released.

"If we split up and make a run for it, we might have a chance," Mike said quietly, his hand ready on the door handle. Aine squirmed in Clarisse's lap.

"It's. Not. Like. That." she tried one more time. "Elita – that's her back there – is a friend of mine, and she's really nice, really polite and lady-like even, and she **won't hurt you**."

"Sweetie, I think you'd better let us handle this, okay? I don't think you're completely recovered from that episode of yours."

"Excuse me??"

THUMP crunch, THUMP crunch, THUMP crunch.

In only three steps Elita had closed the distance, and even now was leaning down, hand outstretched for the car roof.

Aine didn't normally take pleasure in the fear and suffering of others, but even she could not help a slight sense of victorious vindication at the momentary stunned fear of her captors. Mike was the one to break the spell.

"NOW!"

The five collage students burst out of the car in four directions, Aine being pushed forcefully out and landing on her side. Before she could gather her bearings, Clarisse grabbed her by the upper arm and pulled/dragged her behind running. Aine was not given enough time to properly regain her balance and sink her heels in, forced instead to stumble after Clarisse lest she fall flat on her face and get dragged along anyway.

"Wait! Stop! Let me go already! I already told you, SHE'S NOT DANGEROUS!!"

Her cries, once again, fell on deaf ears.

Nolan stood in front of them, arms spread, a human barrier. "Hey! Knock it off already and give my sister ba-AACK!"

Kyle had run full tilt into Nolan and they both went flying a few feet before landing and sliding back in the dirt and gravel, Nolan underneath.

Nolan spared himself half a second to whimper piteously in pain before forcefully shoving the older boy off him. Kyle was happy to comply, and was clambering to his feet as Elita hurried around and past the entangled pair, sparing Nolan only a glance to make sure he wasn't being attacked or was seriously hurt as she passed.

The opening of the make-shift dead end was so close, and the humans put on an extra burst of speed as gigantic footsteps sounded behind them.

Mere seconds before they could have passed out of the dead end and separated for the dozens of possible escape routes or hiding places not accessible to cars or giants, a shadow passed over their heads and landed heavily in front of them, blocking the entrance effectively with her sheer size.

The humans skidded to a halt and stared up at her, Clarisse hiding Aine behind her. Aine tried to get around, but was continuously held back.

"No, no, it's alright, she's not going to hurt you, really!" Aine insisted, her infamous patience starting to wear out. Honestly, how many times did she have to keep saying that before someone actually _listened_ to her??

"Indeed," Elita agreed, lowering her head and pinning the petrified young adults with a penetrating gaze. The afternoon sun shone brightly behind her, surrounding her help in a halo and dancing on her armor in vibrant displays of shimmering light and color. She was like a wrathful goddess visiting the mortal realm.

She was about as amused as one too.

"This ridiculous chase has gone on long enough," Elita said slowly. "I do not wish you harm. I only want Aine released."

"What?" Jaycee asked intelligently.

But the time for words was over, and Eltia saw no need in trying to reason with these particular humans, since it was already clear that they could not be made to listen.

Elita reached over their heads and deftly plucked Aine with a squeak from behind her self-assigned guardian, metal fingers wrapping around her thighs, waist, and stomach in a firm, safe grip.

The self-assigned guardian was none too pleased.

"NO! I won't let you take her!" she shouted. In a fit of protective rage, she actually leapt up and grabbed Elita's wrist to stop her and wrapped her entire body around the appendage as best she could. "She's just a kid! You can't have her!"

Aine blinked.

Kyle kept his distance, and Jaycee was trembling on the ground, but Danny jumped up and latched onto Elita's wrist as well, right next to Clarisse, and wrapped himself around the metal in a death grip and tried to make himself as heavy as possible, while Mike pulled and tugged at the fingers to try and free Aine.

Aine blinked again. Elita tilted her head curiously. Nolan slapped a hand over his eyes.

Elita watched the three humans attempt to stop her for a few seconds, not giving in but also doing absolutely nothing to stop them. One corner of her mouth even perked up, and she was looking far less annoyed now than she did before.

Aine stared at the humans in amazement. Granted, they were stubborn, panicky, and couldn't be made to listen or believe that Elita could possibly be anything other than a threat, but right here and now they were honestly ready to fight off a giant robot to 'save' her, a complete stranger. It was…touching, really. Their intent, albeit misplaced, was still admirable to her.

Nolan was far less impressed.

"Oh for the love of God in heaven, _just how stupid are you people??_" Nolan exclaimed, throwing his hands up into the air to show just how exasperated he was.

Elita easily pulled free of Mike, and used her other hand to pry the two humans off her wrist (though to their credit they didn't make it easy – they were as tenacious as barnacles).

Nolan stomped around Danny and Clarisse as they fell gracelessly to the ground, muttering something about "jerks", "kidnappers", and "stupid idiots who were a waste of air and space." Jaycee managed to catch the last comment.

"That was a little uncalled for," she protested weakly. She was ignored.

Elita took a few steps backwards away from the huddled group and turned to go. A thought struck Jaycee, and for a couple of seconds her confusion overrode her fear and common sense.

"W-wait a second, aren't you going to kill us or something so we don't tell anyone else about you?"

Elita half turned and gave her a perplexed look. "Do you _wish_ for me to terminate you?"

"NO!" four voices cried out in unison. Nolan muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'darn it.'

"Then I see no need," Elita said, kneeling down to gently return Aine to the ground. "What you have seen is far too incredible for most humans to believe without hard evidence that you lack. I have nothing to fear from you."

Aine's toes barely touched the dirt before she was engulfed in a suffocating bear hug, and after a second she wrapped her arms around her brother as well. Elita transformed back into a car and opened her rear door for the children, and honked her horn to tell them they had to get a move on now.

They pair separated and slip into the back seat after Nolan tossed in their backpacks first. Elita's seatbelts flew across their laps and bodies, and as they snapped into place Elita rolled on out. The five friends watched them go wordlessly. It wasn't until Elita had been gone for nearly five minutes before someone spoke up.

"Well, that was pretty anticlimactic."

"Shut up Kyle."

* * *

"Nolan, it's ok, I'm fine, they didn't hurt me or anything," Aine assured her brother for the third time. The high school senior just went 'hm,' not relinquishing his one arm hold on his sister in the slightest.

As soon as they were out of sight of the Blue Car Crew, Nolan had wrapped an arm around Aine to pull her close to his side and hadn't let go since, tucking her head under his chin. After such a bad scare, and the extremely stressful morning, Aine didn't blame him for his need to keep her close, and even appreciated the sense of comfort and security the embrace offered. Honestly though, it felt like it was as if Nolan literally feared she'd drop out of the car and disappear if he let go.

Not to mention it was a nice source of physical warmth, seeing as Elita's back door window had been smashed to pieces after that initial attack, leaving the passengers exposed to the wind.

"This is why I told you NOT to come after me," Nolan said at last, still not pulling away. "What if one of that Decepticons shots hit you? What if those people got away from us? You could've been killed or kidnapped and lost forever! Why didn't you listen to me?"

Aine shrank a little in seat, her stomach twisting with guilt.

"You are not in a position to criticize Aine's disobedience," Elita interjected. The Commanders tone was sharp and, while controlled, still carried traces of simmering anger.

Both of the young humans felt their stomachs sink, heavy with the Bad Feeling of Impending Doom (though Nolan felt it worse since he was the one Elita was talking to).

Nolan finally released his old on Aine and pulled away, but didn't look at Elita's dashboard, choosing instead to stare at the floor.

"I…look I…I know I screwed up. I shouldn't have gotten in that Decepticons way like that. I should've reacted faster. Better yet, I shouldn't have left the stuff behind in the first place, so I wouldn't have had to go back for them at all."

"Shouldn't have…Nolan, you were right to leave everything behind, but you should not have come back AT ALL," Elita said sharply. "I ordered you to get out of the battle zone for your own safety. You could have been killed, and for what? A few possessions, easily replace? Do you place so little value on your own _life_?"

Nolan's head snapped up. "It wasn't just stuff!" he protested, then visibly flinched. "I mean…I thought…"

"You did not think at all, Nolan," Elita interrupted, her voice rising. "Not enough anyway. Had you been one of my soldiers, I-"

Elita cut herself off. When she began again, her voice was calm again, albeit icy cold. "What you did was reckless, dangerous, and short-sighted. I do not care what justification you might believe you have, because I can assure you it is not enough."

"But I-" Nolan tried, and nearly bit his tongue as he stopped himself. Even HE knew when enough was enough.

"I'm, I'm really sorry I screwed up," he said quietly. "But I had good reasons!" he added vehemently. "I'm not stupid!"

"What were those reasons Nolan?" a small voice asked. Nolan whipped his head around to stare at Aine.

The 14 year old was staring intently down at her lap, hands wringing, face hot, voice with a slight tremble as she held back tears.

"W-what could have been so important that, that you'd risk dying to save it?"

Nolan stared at her in shock as she questioned (_questioned_!!) him. His mouth open and closed a few times, but the truth became trapped in his throat and died before the words could take flight.

"I had reasons Aine," he said instead. "I can't tell you, but if you knew, you'd agree with me. Believe me! Trust me on this, I had good reasons!"

When Aine looked up at him, Nolan had expected to see trust. He had expected to see silent agreement. He had expected to perceive her undying, unwavering faith that he was right, as he always was. He expected her to look at him the same way she always had.

What he saw instead froze his breath in his lungs.

Her eyes didn't hold trust, but doubt. Doubt in his words, disbelief in his convictions, a silent belief that right now he was _wrong_.

He had never seen her give him those eyes before.

He hated those eyes.

"Don't look at me like that!" he snapped, and Aine flinched back just the slightest at the force of his words.

"What's with you all of a sudden?" Nolan went on, his voice becoming sharper. "I'm your brother, and you're supposed to be on my side here!"

"E-even when you're wrong?"

"YES!"

Elita swerved so sharply the kids slid across the seat, their seatbelts being all that prevented them being thrown to the floor. Deftly passing through traffic, Elita roared through the streets until she abruptly stopped in front of a public library.

Aine's seatbelt snapped off and her door opened.

"Aine, your brother and I need to speak alone now. Wait here for us."

It was not a request.

Aine hesitated a moment before she slowly started to get out.

"What? No!" Nolan protested, and halfway out the door Aine stopped.

A corner of Nolan's brain was pleased that she still listened to him first. The rest was freaking out over the separation.

"Aine, get back in! It's not safe for you to be alone!" he insisted.

"This is a public facility with security," Elita said smoothly. "You will be safe here for now, but Nolan and I need to speak privately. Meanwhile, I need you to ascertain where the chase had taken us, and the best course to take from here to Tranquility."

Aine's eyes flickered from Nolan to the library steps, torn between obedience and filial loyalty. Nolan almost smirked, because he already KNEW what choice Aine would make.

Or at least, he thought he did, before she slid out of the car and politely closed the door behind her.

Nolan felt like she slammed it in his face.

Elita pulled away, and Aine stood on the bottom of the library entrance stairs and watched them go.

* * *

This was, quite possibly, the worst car ride of Nolan's entire life.

Scratch that: this was, most DEFINITELY, the worst car ride of Nolan's entire life.

He could remember, as a little kid, breaking rules he was perfectly aware existed, believing he could get away with it, only to be caught red handed as his mother walked in. For the life of him, he couldn't remember the crime itself, but he still remembered how it felt being in that limbo after getting caught and before the verbal lashing or punishment was administrated, just waiting for the other shoe to drop, feeling incredibly small and helpless and guilty the whole time until he was nearly sick in the stomach from it.

That was how he felt now, only his crime was a lot worse than climbing on the kitchen counter or stealing from the cookie jar when he was four.

It was made even worse because Elita had yet to say a single word since they had left Aine at the library. The silence hung heavily over him, and Nolan fought not to squirm, trying to settle the butterflies currently fighting a free for all wrestling match in his stomach.

"Ummm, where are we going?" he ventured.

"Someplace private," was the transformers vague answers.

_Oh crap, she's going to kill me and hide the body_, Nolan thought, half joking.

Half.

He remained quiet for the rest of the ride.

'Someplace private' turned out to be the fringes of an office parking lot. Elita parked and released Nolan's seatbelt, but kept the doors locked. He knew better than to try to get out, or crawl through the broken window, less he piss Elita off even worse than he already had.

He wasn't going anywhere.

"Elita?"

"I do not profess an expertise in human culture and family dynamics, nor to I wish to intercede in affairs not of my business, but I cannot, and will not, abide as you throw your misplaced anger at Aine."

Nolan cringed, but Elita wasn't done yet.

"What you said to her was hurtful and completely uncalled for, not to mention completely irrational. That she disagrees with you is NOT a betrayal, and though she is your sister and loves you dearly, she is NOT obligated to agree with you at all times. If she did mindlessly agree and follow you always, I would question the sincerity of her love for you."

Nolan sank in his seat, feeling incredibly small and foolish. Intellectually, he knew Elita was right. He shouldn't have said those things to Aine and he knew, in his head, that she was only worried about him, that he scared her and she wanted to know why he did what he did, that she only wanted to understand him. Logically, it only made sense she'd be doubtful of his reasons when he couldn't even share them with her. It was logical, rational, and smart of her to be skepical even…

Ah screw it. He didn't care if it made sense logically, it still hurt that she couldn't just _trust_ him like she usually did.

God, it hurt so bad…

…but he knew it didn't justify him hurting her back.

"I…I didn't mean…I'd _never_ hurt her on purpose. I was just…being stupid, I guess. I'm sorry."

"Say that to her, and I will consider that enough."

Nolan wanted to be miffed about being treated like a little kid, or that Elita was starting to act suspiciously parental, but considering his own recent actions, he didn't exactly have the higher moral ground here.

"More importantly," Elita continued, "I do not believe you truly appreciate the full extent of your actions earlier during my fight with Onslaught. He could have killed you easily, but he also could have captured you and used you as a hostage against me. Or your interference could have drawn his attention back to Aine and the other humans.

"You did not only endanger yourself, Nolan. You endangered me, you endangered the other humans, and you endangered Aine."

Nolan's eyes widened. His throat dried up, and he almost felt like he couldn't breathe.

"I know you did not intend for that. But the fact remains that you were reckless and short sighted. Suppose you had been killed. What would have become of Aine then?"

Nolan's eyes lowered and became fixed on the floor, unseeing. He couldn't answer verbally, but his expression was answer enough.

"I am not your commander, nor your true guardian, and I do not order either you or your sister needlessly. But when I _do_ give you an order, I do it for your best interests and safety. That is why I expect to be obeyed promptly and completely. I cannot protect you otherwise."

"Yes ma'am. I'm sorry."

Those two little sentences slipped out before Nolan could process the thought of them, and he momentarily seemed genuinely surprised by them.

Elita, apparently done chastising Nolan and making him feel two inches tall, softened again for her next question. "Why did you do it Nolan? What was so important you would risk the crossfire's to save it?"

Nolan squirmed slightly, internally distressed at the sudden turn of the conversation. This was the _one_ thing he had hoped Elita wouldn't bring up. "I thought you said you didn't care what the reason was."

"I said there was no reason to risk your life. I still wish to know why you did it."

Nolan shook his head and gave a one shoulder shrug. "It was stupid. I wanted my backpack because it had all the money we had, and Aine and I are gonna need it to get back home if nothing else."

"If you do not wish to tell me the truth, you need not lie to me instead."

Nolan started violently. "What?"

"You are not a complete fool. Even without money, a way could have been found to return you and your sister home. You would not have risked death and leaving Aine alone in the world for something so easy to replace as currency.

"What is the real reason?"

Nolan sank into his seat. "It's not important, not really, and it's stupid."

"You were ready to die to save it. It is important you."

Nolan was silent for a long minute, as he debated in his head, his eyes flickering from his lap, to Elita's dashboard, to his dusty backpack upside down on the floor.

Nolan put one hand on the shoulder of each front seat and leaned forward until his head and shoulders were between them. When he spoke again, his voice was one of utter seriousness and solemnity.

"You've got to promise me something first: you have to promise that you won't tell Aine any of this. Promise me you won't say anything to her."

Elita was taken aback slightly by Nolans plea, but was quick to recover. "I swear to you, Nolan O'Connell, on my honor as an Autobot, that what you say here and now will forever remain between us until you say otherwise.

Nolan let his head fall sideways and rest against the headrest of the driver's seat.

"Good. Okay then."

He fell backwards again and landed heavily against the faux leather. For nearly a full minute, he was completely silent, tapping a finger against his knee, trying to get his thoughts in line and strengthening his resolve so that the words might survive the journey past his heart and up his throat. Elita, befitting an ageless and nearly immortal being, patiently waited for him to be ready.

"Y'know how Aine and I don't talk about our mom? That's cause…um…it's kind of a touchy subject. Actually, I lied. It's not exactly touchy, so much as it's…okay, it's touchy."

"I would very much like to hear about your mother, but if you do not feel comfortable talking about her, you do not have to."

"No, it's alright. Besides, she's kinda the reason I was so stupid today."

He reached down for his backpack, and after a bit of rummaging, pulled out a worn paperback. From the careful way Nolan handled it, Elita could plainly see just how precious this book was to him personally. He held the book in his hands and just started down at the cover, the picture of a dragon hatching out of a rainbow glowing egg and a brown haired boy watching in awe under the title.

"Mom got this for me when I was ten years old, just because she thought I might like it. It's pretty much my most prized possession, I guess. It was my favorite book for an embarrassingly long time anyway." Nolan let out a humorless laugh.

"Where is your mother?" Elita gently asked. Nolan shook his head.

"About five years ago, she…she abandoned us."

"Abandoned?"

"Left. Gave up. Walked out. Gone forever. After that, I was…I don't know what Aine thinks, but I…" Nolan started to choke up, and ran a hand through his hair to buy a couple of seconds until he could compose himself.

"I hated her for a long time after that, you know? I hated her for just giving up on us like that. But when I got a little older, and got more of a taste of what Dad's really like without Mom acting as a buffer, I started understanding better why she did what she did, I guess."

"You do not hold anger toward her anymore?"

"I sure as hell haven't forgiven her for it yet, but I don't _hate_ her for it anymore. I guess I'll always wish she'd stayed, but I can't hate her for leaving anymore."

After all, it wasn't her fault, wasn't it? She wasn't strong enough to endure Richard's treatment of her forever. She couldn't handle the constant dehumanizing Richard subjected her to. Sooner or later she was going to break into a thousand pieces, and there was no one around to put her back together again except for the child too young to understand, the husband too selfish to care, and the boy too foolish to see the damage.

"Is this why you ran onto the battlefield?" Elita asked. "To save your mothers present?"

Nolan hesitated for a moment, and then quickly, before he had a change to change his mind, let the book fall open, revealing the picture and the folded letter.

"After Mom…when she wasn't around anymore, Dad took all her pictures and threw them away when Aine and I weren't home. Or burned them, buried them, or hid them in a gym locker, I don't know. Point is, we don't have any pictures of her anymore." He lifted the photograph of himself, Aine, and their mother happy on the beach, back when she was still so full of warmth and life. "This was the only one I could save."

"Aine takes after her," Elita noted, and Nolan felt brief surprise that she could see the photo well enough to discern that.

"Yeah…her personality's the same too. Aine's just like Mom was when I was a little kid. Mom was really different back then. She was a lot happier, smiled all the time, and acted a little silly sometimes to make us smile too."

"What happened to her? How did she change?"

Nolan shook his head again. "Exactly, I'm not sure what happened. I guess it was a gradual thing. Toward the end – I mean before she left – she was always tired, and she always seemed sad about something." Nolan tilted his head in thought. "Come to think of it, I can't even remember the last time I saw her smile."

"It sounds as if your mother was depressed."

Nolan couldn't help but wince a little as Elita strayed a little too close to the truth of the matter for his liking.

"Guess so. Kinda obvious NOW, but back then, I was just a dumb kid who was more upset that my mom wasn't the 'cool' parent anymore than whether or not she was actually happy."

"You were only a child Nolan. You could not have been expected to understand what she was going through, nor have been able to stop her from leaving. She needed help. It was not your fault that she could not, or did not, seek it out."

Nolan gave a one shoulder shrug and put the picture back, picking up the note in its place.

"Before she went away, she left this letter for me, saying she was sorry and asking me to take care of Aine, that I was all she had left now. It's pretty much her last request, I guess."

He waved a hand over the items on his lap. "Between the book, the photo, and the letter, that's pretty much everything I have to remember her by."

"So this is what you were trying to save?"

"Yeah." He made a self deprecating smile. "Kinda stupid, now that I think about it."

"I do not think she would have wished for you to risk your life for it," Elita admitted. "But there is nothing wrong with wishing to preserve your mother's memory."

Nolan started at Elita's choice of words. "What? What do mean 'preserve her memory?'"

"You have said that you have nothing else to remember her by, correct? That is why you wished to protect what you have left of her. Two of those items are from when she was at her happiest, and when you wish to remember the most."

Nolan relaxed a little in his seat. Oh, so she didn't mean it like _that_…

"Yeah. Something like that, I guess." Carefully he closed the book with his treasures tucked inside and returned it to the backpack.

"You said your mother has been missing for five years, correct? Has she not tried to contact you or your family at all in that time?"

Nolan gave a hollow smile. "Nope. And she never will. Trust me on this."

"You have no hope of this?"

Nolan almost smirked. "It's not a matter of not having any hope left, so much as always having known better that TO hope at all."

Elita's confusion laced her next words. "But you clearly miss her dearly, yet you hold no desire to know what became of her or to contact her?"

Nolan didn't like where this conversation was going. He'd already told her more than he had intended, and he wanted to stop this talk before he let something else slip. "She left. End of story. Sure I miss her, but I already know I'm never going to see her again. Aine knows it too."

"Do the two of you talk about her often?"

Nolan looked out the window. "That's kinda taboo in our house. We haven't talked about Mom in three or four years now."

"Why not?"

"Just because. Bad memories, y'know?"

"Does Aine know you have the picture and the letter?"

Nolan's hands twitched around the book. Why did she have to keep asking the questions he couldn't answer?

And why did she have to be a living lie detector?!

"No. I tried to tell her a few times, but I couldn't bring myself to. Aine doesn't remember Mom too well, and...I don't know. I guess I don't want Aine to get upset about Mom all over again. Look, I'm sorry, but I really don't want to talk about this anymore, if it's all the same to you."

"I understand. Thank you, Nolan, for sharing this with me. I…appreciate it, I truly do." Elita actually sounded utterly sincere about it, something that Nolan found both surprising, a little disconcerting even, and yet…it felt good to know she cared and appreciated it.

It felt good to have someone _else_ care and appreciate something he gave them.

Nolan promptly squashed that treacherous sensation and shoved it to the back of his mind to hopefully be forgotten quickly.

"Alright, enough of the warm fuzzies!" Nolan declared, clapping his hands together. "How 'bout we get back to the library, grab Aine, and get a move on!"

Elita didn't move.

"And let's go!"

Not moving.

"Ready, set…go!"

Still not moving.

"Okay, now you're starting to worry me. Everything all right?"

"I would like to find a secluded or enclosed area, so that I can repair the damage I incurred during the fight with Onslaught," Elita said as she started her engine. "That will give Aine more time to find the necessary information I asked for, and we will be able to continue on immediately with minimal delay."

Onslaught…

"Who WAS that guy anyway?" Nolan asked. "You two seemed to know each other, and correct me if I'm wrong, but he looked like he was gunning for you specifically, and not just because you're an Autobot, or even an officer. What's up with you two?"

"That…is a long story, one I would rather not repeat," Elita said. "But after what has happened, you both you and your sister deserve an explanation, and I will give it once Aine is back with us."

Nolan leaned forward in his seat, suddenly extremely uneasy about the way Elita hadn't been answering his questions. "If it's that bad, then maybe you should go ahead and tell me now, before Aine hears about it. Then I can decide how much she really needs to know."

"No. She deserves to hear the whole truth from me. She is a strong person; I believe she will be able to handle it."

Nolan grimaced as he leaned back in his seat again. Elita meant well, but she didn't know Aine like he did. Aine put up a strong front, and had a special talent of rolling with the punches, but he had a better idea of how much stress she could handle. Frankly, he was really uneasy about what Elita was going to tell them, and he wanted to protect Aine from it as much as he could.

But Elita wouldn't let him, and he couldn't make her change her mind.

'Frustrating' didn't cover it. But how could he impress on Elita just how delicate Aine really was? She was…she was…like an egg. Strong under certain circumstances and able to endure certain pressures, but too much in the wrong place and she'd crack irrevocably.

Their mother, she had been like that too, taking so much pressure until she finally cracked and broke forever. If it happened to her, then Aine, who carried on her heart and spirit, was just as vulnerable, if not more so because of her youth and naiveté.

_Don't worry Mom_, Nolan promised in his mind, unconciously gripping the book a little tighter, _I won't let that happen to her. I promised, remember? I promised._

* * *

"We've got to call someone, guys."

"Like who? Ain't nobody gonna believe us without proof, Clarisse, and thanks to that kid, all our videos are smashed up."

"We can't just IGNORE this!" Clarisse insisted, throwing her hands up in the air. The five friends were still at the construction site, walking around outside the car and trying to come to terms with what had just happened, and what, if anything, they were going to do next.

"Well what ARE we supposed to do, oh Great Wise One?" Kyle snapped irritably. "This is way WAY over our heads. I think we should stay out of it, and let the government handle it."

"The government can't handle it if they DON'T EVEN KNOW IT'S HERE!!"

"Whoa whoa whoa people, enough with the shouting," Danny interceded, hands up and stepping between the pair before they _really_ got going. "Screaming at each other isn't going to solve anything."

"So what ARE we going to do?" Clarisse asked, crossing her arms and just _daring_ Danny to side with Kyle. "That thing's got two kids with it! They're in danger, we can't just pretend we didn't see anything!"

"Actually, that girl did keep saying that the robot was a friend of hers." Jaycee offered meekly from the sidelines. Clarisse waved it off.

"That girl was, what, twelve? Thirteen maybe? I'm sure she *believes* that robot is her friend, but what does that really mean? I bet that things just using them. Maybe it brainwashed them or something, I don't know! What reason do we *really* have that that robot isn't, I don't know, an advance scout for an invading alien robot army?"

"'Invading alien robot army?'" Kyle repeated with a quirked brow. "Don't you think that's a little out there?

Clarisse gave him a deadpan look.

"We just spent the morning crashing a giant robot death match and being chased down the interstate by an alien car. Not a whole lot of room for skepticism anymore."

"Good point."

"MY point is what reasons do we have to believe that it isn't dangerous?"

"It didn't kill us?" Jaycee suggested/reminded them. Clarisse looked blankly at her for a second, and then shook her head.

"It could have spared us for any number of reasons. Maybe it figured we'd keep quiet and didn't want to bother. Or maybe it just didn't want to get its feet dirty stepping on us, I don't know!"

"Our biggest problem," Danny said thoughtfully, "is getting people to believe us. I mean, if we decide to talk about this-"

"What do you mean '_if_?'" Clarisse demanded.

"IF we decide to go to someone about this," Danny continued, "we don't have any proof: no other witnesses, no pictures, no video, not even a piece of space metal or alien technology. Unless one of you guys managed to snap a picture when I wasn't looking, they're just gonna say 'hey, that's a great story, wanna try on this pretty white jacket?'"

Clarisse jabbed a finger at Danny to protest, but wilted. "Damn. So that's it then? We just give up?"

"Maybe not."

Four heads turned to look at Mike, who up till now had been fiddling around quietly with his Camcorder as he leaned on the car hood.

"I thought you said the camera was busted?" Danny asked.

"It is," Mike confirmed. "The _camera_ is busted."

He tugged at the little compartment door, and up popped a little black rectangle. He carefully pulled it out, and held it up for inspection.

As far as anyone there could tell, the little tape, the new Holy Grail of alien watchers and conspiracy theorists worldwide, had survived the ordeal completely unscathed.

Mike broke out in a wide grin. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you our proof."

* * *

**AN**: As usual, any and all reviews will be loved and cherished, even if it's just to say 'good story', 'you suck!', or 'grapes are sexy.'

Though, admittedly, if someone ever does say my story sucks, I'll probably die a little inside…but it won't break my resolve to keep on writing! *strikes a heroic pose*


	8. Ch 8 Matters of Duty

**AN**: Aaaaand here we are, in the new Movie section! Still unpacking and settling in, and waiting for the movers to arrive. Hopefully I won't lose the box with have my reviewers inside. ;)

You know what's interesting? A few days ago I was the train, lost in thought, and I was starting to stress out about various things in my life. Right then and there I whipped out my trusty notebook and worked on this chapter, and within minutes I was feeling much better. Apparently, writing is a very relaxing activity for me. :)

Remember, if you want to see pictures or read descriptions of what the characters look like, check out my profile for the links.

**Disclaimer**: If I owned Transformers, characters like Elita would get a lot more love.

TPWIP is inspired by Ray of Starlight's "Twin Times the Fun." Go check it out if you haven't yet. And when you get there, read her story "The Ties that Bind", that's a cool one too.

* * *

Ch. 8 – Matters of Duty

Aine stood on the wide cement steps of the public library and watched Elita drive away with Nolan, catching a few odd looks on her way out because of the broken window and sizable dent in the door.

She hoped Nolan would be alright, but she was also glad for Elita taking him out of her hands. She had never seen Nolan like that before, so mad and irrational, and it still left her shaken. Her heart was still fluttering from the experience.

Hopefully, Elita would be able to talk some sense into her brother, and he'd be himself again when they got back.

In the meantime, Elita had given her a job to do: find out where they were, and plot a rough course to Tranquility from here.

So Aine took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and marched up the steps, brimming with resolve and determination to fulfill her mission to the highest degree…then backed up a few steps to check the sign.

" 'Owensboro City Library'," she read aloud. "Well, that's a start."

Not that did her any good, since she didn't have a clue where Owensboro even _was_. Were they even still in Ohio?

She'd need to use one of the computers to find out.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Aine was browsing through online US road maps with the help of a borrowed library card.

Getting her own card for this one visit, as it turned out, had been out of the question. Without a local home address or photo ID, she couldn't get one even if she wanted to. Fortunately, after asking a few people there, she found one guy who was nice enough to lend her his, so long as she paid for her own printouts and gave it back as soon as she was done (which she promised to do, several times).

As it turned out, they _weren't_ in Ohio anymore. They had ended up going in a west and southerly direction, from the looks of it, and ended up on the border of Kentucky. Not the most efficient course to Tranquility, but at least they hadn't backtracked. Really, the Blue Car Crew had done them a favor, forcing them to travel so far so fast.

Thinking of the Blue Car Crew, and the case, reminded Aine why nearly the entire episode was a blur to her, until near the end. She remembered the horrid yet familiar sensation of her chest constricting, her body trembling and shivering, blindly terrified again that her heart was going to give out and she was never going to see her brother again because she was going to die among strangers, wanting so badly to scream for Nolan to save her, for Elita to find her, but not being able to make a sound…

Aine curled a hand over her heart as the pit of her stomach turned cold.

Tentatively, fearfully, not wanting to know yet unable to avoid looking, Aine pulled up the Google search page, and typed in the search bar:

_Heart attacks + teenagers_

Two attacks in two days. That had _never_ happened to her before, so whatever was wrong with her, it was getting worse. Finding out made her want to be sick, but she couldn't pretend it wasn't happening anymore, or that it was just going to go away on its own if she ignored it.

But the search didn't turn yield as much fruit she had hoped for and dreaded. Most of the sites talked about heart attacks in general, about how they were caused by high blood pressure and cholesterol and what not, and others mentioned that heart attacks in teens were highly rare but not impossible to diagnose.

Nothing she found matched her particular situation, since she ate healthy and, as far as she knew, her family didn't have a history of heart disease, not extensively anyway.

_Is my condition that rare?_ Aine thought, feeling sick and cold with dread. _Do I have some weird, rare disease hardly anyone knows about?_

Aine shut all the windows and logged off the computer in a haze. What was wrong with her? What was wrong with her heart, her body?

"Miss? Miss, is everything okay?"

Aine looked up to see one of the library aides looking down at her in concern, and to her embarrassment she realized how watery her eyes were.

"It's nothing, I'm fine," she said automatically. "I'm just…it's personal, I'm sorr…I'm sorr..."

Quickly, before the tears could fall, Aine got out of her chair and hurried past the aide, leaving the printout and borrowed library card behind.

She made a bee line for the bathroom, thankfully unoccupied, and locked the door behind her.

The bathroom was a single room, large enough to accommodate a wheelchair and even possessing a fold down counter for mothers to change their babies' diapers.

There would be no witnesses to Aine's weakness.

Aine switched off the lights and sunk to the floor, back to the door, knees drawn up and hugged tightly to her chest as she sobbed soundlessly in the dark. Maintaining the silence was second nature to her now, after so many years of hiding her tears from Richard, who despised weakness in his kids, and Nolan, who had enough to deal with in his own life without Aine adding her own personal weaknesses and fears to his burden. Now, she wasn't sure if she possessed the ability to cry aloud even if she had wanted to.

_What am I supposed to do now?_ Aine thought. _I'm so scared, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Should I tell someone?_

Even as she thought it, she knew it wasn't a real option, not now anyway. They still had to get Elita back to her friends, and with that Decepticon – Onslaught, that was what Elita had called him – after them, they didn't have time for her personal drama.

Besides, what has changed since yesterday really? What mattered more than anything was the tenuous balance she, Nolan, and Richard held at home. It was imperfect and nerve wracking sometimes, but it made life bearable and it was her duty to maintain that balance, just as her mother had before her.

If Aine came out with this, would the balance be broken beyond repair?

That frightened her almost as much as the possibility of death. She had no idea what would happen exactly, but she had seen firsthand how explosive and irrational Richard could get when he felt like his personal comfort was being encroached on, or his position and power as head of the family threatened. He liked to have things just so, and was happiest when Aine did what she had to do, and did not deviate from the status quo.

Come to think of it, that was a little like…

Aine shook her head. No, this was not the time to distractions.

_I wish Mom was here._

That stray thought actually took the young girl by surprise. Her memories of her mother had dimmed, only a few strong ones here and there, most of her knowledge of the woman having been supplied by Nolan occasionally, and Richard when he was giving her new duties that the previous O'Connell matriarch had held. Aine couldn't even remember her voice, her last hug, her laugh, not even her face. But she did faintly remember a sense of trust, of comfort, of being able to talk to her about anything without fear of judgment or ridicule…

Elita.

Aine raised her head a little, only to let it sink down again. No, she couldn't talk to Elita about this. They had only known her for a couple of days, and she was a stranger to Earth to boot, unfamiliar with humans.

And yet…

She was sincerely interested in the things Aine had to say, had spent hours just listening to her ramble that first day, something no one else had done. Maybe Elita couldn't do anything to help, but she could listen.

Aine shook her head. They temptation to finally tell someone her secret fear was overpowering, but was it the best course of action?

_It's too much, I can't think about it now. I'll think about it later_, Aine decided as she stood, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. _I'll just think about it later._

* * *

"Y'know, most people would assume it'd be a lot harder for a giant robot to find a good hiding place in a city the middle of the day."

"Most people would be correct, but I have had many years to practice finding strategic locations quickly."

"'Strategic locations.' Right. Can't you just say 'hiding place?'"

The strategic location, hiding place, fox hole, or whatever you wanted to call it, turned out to be a large, rustic brick building with big doors that were more that accommodating enough for a car to come through, once the lock was 'accidently' smashed. The whole place, while empty and spacious on the inside, reeked of age and dignity. It was close to a hundred years old, or so the plague outside had declared, and apparently had great historic value and whatnot for anyone who cared about that stuff.

The same plaque had also mentioned it was used nowadays for bazaars and farmers markets, hence the spacious interior, and that it was 'the heart and soul of the community.' All they cared about was that it was roomy enough for Elita to stand and stretch comfortably, and private enough to hide her from passer-byers (the windows were covered with wooden blinds, obscuring the view to outsiders).

Privacy assured, Elita had taken out a small (relative to herself) box from a folded compartment on her lower back, which turned out to be the Cybertronian equivalent of a first aid kit, except instead of band aids and gauze, she got to use what looked like welders, some clamps, and a few other tools Nolan didn't even have names for beyond 'eye-curler-monkey-wrench-hybrid-thing.'

She used the tools to tend to her repairs, and while Nolan couldn't help but cringe when he saw the occasional spark, except for a slight twitch in her expression or a momentary halt in her sentences, Elita showed no sign of feeling pain or discomfort.

Yes, sentences. While Elita worked, she kept up light conversation with Nolan.

"You're just covered in little hiding places for your stuff, aren't you?" the boy commented, tilting his head as he watched. "You're like, Batman or Inspector Gadget."

"It is the easiest way to carry essentials without being overburdened," Elita said (after she made Nolan explain who Batman and Inspector Gadget were). "Though there are obvious limits. I know that Wheeljack, a brilliant engineer for the Autobots, was working on creating sub-space compartments so that we might be able to carry more without hindrance, but his experiments were not going terribly well the last I heard."

"What happened?"

"His laboratory had exploded again."

"...'Again?'"

"Wheeljack is a true genius, but he is…notoriously explosive."

"As in, he loses his temper a lot and breaks things?"

"As in, he has had more limbs blown off and parts replaced than any other mech I have ever known"

"Whoa boy."

"Indeed."

Their conversation was light, and enjoyable, and Nolan found himself relaxing again. Mostly Elita asked about Nolan himself, what he liked to do, how his jobs were, and what his plans were for the future (which Nolan didn't want to talk about extensively and Elita politely changed the subject). Nolan tried to sneak in a few questions about Onslaught, but Elita cleverly deflected all questions and Nolan ended up learning nothing he didn't already know. But she also talked about herself a little, when Nolan asked.

"So why do you talk so freakishly formally all the time anyway?"

"Before the war, I worked in politics. I spent much of my time working with high ranking government officials and the aristocrats of the Towers, often acting as a liaison between the two. To speak in the vernacular in such situations would have risked creating an impression as being uncultured, and the Towers, if nothing else, were the Autobot epitome of high class and culture. I suppose after so long, speaking in such a manner simply became second nature to me."

"But it's not just that you don't use slang," Nolan pointed out. "I mean, you never say 'don't' or 'I'm,' it's always 'do not' and 'I am.' And you use fancy words to describe stuff too, like 'abode' instead of 'home.' Or 'strategic location' instead of 'hiding place.'" The last example was added with a smirk.

"It is a highly ingrained habit," was Elita's only answer.

Then came the part where Elita had to try and address the damage to her shoulder. That was proving somewhat difficult, since she couldn't easily reach it.

"So…d'ya need any help?" Nolan asked. Elita looked down at him thoughtfully.

"If you are offering, I could use your assistance."

She held up what looked like tweezers in her hand. "I can feel that I have several pieces of shrapnel behind my shoulder, but I cannot reach it on my own to remove them. Could you do it for me?"

"No sweat," Nolan said, getting up from his sprawled seat on the floor. "Just show me where to look."

Elita handed the tweezers to Nolan, who had to use both hands to use them, before turning her back and lying on her side, her left shoulder facing upward. Nolan could now see several pieces metal of various sizes peppering where her shoulder blade would have been, had she been human, leaking a pink liquid from the points of entry.

Nolan felt his stomach churn. Cripes, if he'd been hurt like that, he wouldn't be able to do more than curl up in a corner and whimper in pain, let alone get in a high speed chase immediately afterward and carry on a normal conversation.

"Cripes, doesn't that hurt??"

"My tactile senses are not nearly as sensitive as I suspect yours are, so it does not pain me as much as you are probably imagining. However, I would like them removed posthaste."

"No kidding. Hey, most of the pieces are pretty big, it'd probably be easier for me to use my hands instead of the tweezers."

"I would strongly advise against that. Do you see any energon dripping from the wounds?"

"The pink stuff?"

"Yes. It is harmless to organics so long as you do not touch it; otherwise it is potentially highly corrosive. Do not allow it to come in contact with your skin."

Nolan was suddenly very, very glad for the tweezers, not to mention a lot more nervous. He also made a note to talk to Elita about her defining a flesh-dissolving acid as 'mostly harmless.'

It was slow going, but Nolan was able to pull out all the shrapnel he could find, and did his best to make each removal as smooth and quick as he could, though he had to jiggle a couple of the more stubborn ones to get them out. Elita bore it all gamely, though she did clench her hand sporadically.

Finally it was done, and Nolan handed the tweezers back to Elita as she got back up. "Shouldn't we do something about the bleeding? Slap on a giant metal band aid or something?"

"The damage is otherwise minor; my self-repair systems will be able to handle it given time. The energon loss is not particularly dan…danger…dan…"

Elita's glowing eyes flickered on and off, and she actually swayed a little as she trailed off.

"Elita?" No response. "Elita?!"

"What?" Elita snapped back to attention, 'blinking' her eyes on and off again, looking a little dazed and confused. "My apologies, I drifted off for a moment."

"No kidding. You okay?"

"My energy reserves had been a little low ever since I landed, below fifty percent capacity, and I have not been able to refuel since then. Not to mention the fight with Onslaught drained me even further, more than I would like."

Nolan turned her words over in his head for a moment.

"So…you're saying you're tired and hungry?"

"More or less. Do not worry, I will be fine."

"What d'ya guys do for food or whatever?"

"We refine energy into a liquid form called energon and drink that."

"Energon? Like that pink stuff you were bleeding?"

"Yes."

"You guys drink BLOOD??"

This prompted the merriest laugh Nolan had ever heard from Elita. "No no no, nothing quite like that. We do not consume energon that has come from within a fellow Cybertronian, except under the most extreme life or death situations."

"But…you guys drink your own blood…"

"And you meaty organics eat flesh."

"….Good point. Hey, you turn into a car, can't you use gas?"

Elita grimaced a little at that. "Perhaps as a very last resort, but I would greatly prefer a cleaner energy source that did not put quite as much tax on my systems to process."

"Fair enough. Can you 'refine' some energy into energon now though, if you wanted?"

"No. I do not have the equipment for that. I could no more create my own energon any more than you could create bread with grain and nothing else. If I wish to reenergize, I would essentially have to 'scavenge for food,' if you will, and make do with baser energies, such as electricity. It would be a little harder for my systems, but I do not have many options. But that will have to wait."

Elita tucked her first aid kit back into its proper place and transformed, now looking as good as new, dent gone and window repaired (when did that happen, Nolan wondered?). She popped open the driver door and Nolan took the hint.

"Onslaught suffered greater damage than I, especially to his chassis," Elita said as Nolan slid behind the wheel. "He will need more time to repair, and probably scavenge parts to repair the damage. We have a bit of time, but we cannot waste this chance."

Nolan readily agreed.

Elita drove out of the semi-historic building through the same doors they came in, which gave way easily to Elita. However, once out, she insisted Nolan get out and make sure the doors were closed firmly behind them, even using the broken remains of the heavy lock to hold them in place.

It was only polite.

* * *

It occurred to Aine, once she had the printouts in hand and had returned the library card to its proper owner, that in such a large library it would be hard for Nolan to find her one his own, and since she didn't have a cell phone he wouldn't be able to call her and let her know he was coming.

So when Elita and Nolan drove up, the former looking much better (dent gone and window fixed, most notably), they found Aine waiting patiently, sitting on the library steps with the printouts in her lap.

_Happy face happy face happy face_… she chanted mentally as she stood, dusting off her bottom.

She plastered on a wide, bright smile and waved as she came down the rest of the stairs. "Hi! Glad you remembered to come back for me!"

Aine entered the car and let Elita close the door behind her.

"So, I figured out that we ended up in Kentucky, which really surprised me, since I didn't think we went that far. But at least we didn't back track or anything, so we're still okay. I think if we take I-85, we might be able to get as far as Jefferson City in Missouri by tonight, if we don't stop. Any thoughts?"

"Is everything alright Aine?"

The girl started at Elita's query. "What? What do you mean?"

"You do not seem quite…yourself. You don't seem as cheerful as you normally are."

"'Not as cheerful?'" Nolan repeated with a quirked brow. "Eltia, have you met my sister lately?"

"Y-yeah!" Aine asserted with an exaggerated nod. "Everything's fine, really, I'm totally over the near-kidnapping thing."

"If you insist," Elita said, and Aine could barely hide her relief that the femme seemed willing to leave it at that.

How wrong she was.

The Femme Commander was far from satisfied with Aine's answer. She couldn't put a finger on what it was exactly, but her instincts were telling her there was something off with Aine, like she was trying too hard to be cheerful. In Elita's experience, people who tried to put on a cheerful façade usually did it to cover up their real pain or sadness they didn't want others to see. What was with the mask all of a sudden?

Discreetly, Elita scanned Aine, just to check, and found no evidence of physical trauma.

Well then, what had happened while Elita and Nolan where gone?

Elita made a mental note to speak to Aine about this later, when Nolan wasn't nearby and they had a moment of privacy. Aine clearly wanted them to believe she was perfectly fine, and Nolan was effectively and far too easily for Elita's comfort, fooled. Aine might be more willing to open up if she had privacy.

_First I speak to Richard, then Nolan, and now Aine_, Elita thought in amusement as they left the library behind them. _At this rate, I am going to become the O'Connell family psychologist._

* * *

Of course, the Blue Car Crew wasn't about to forget their ordeal against the Giant Robot of Doom (as so lovingly dubbed by Kyle); especially after they confirmed that their video evidence was undamaged.

Unfortunately, it turned out that not having physical proof wouldn't have been their biggest stumbling block.

"No sir, I am not making this up. All my friends saw it, and we even got it on video. One of them even started talking in the third person once! You don't believe me, just look at the….hello? Hello?"

Clarisse slammed the phone back down with a growl.

"Let me guess," Kyle drawled from his place lying down on the couch, one leg propped up on the back. "They hung up again."

"Shut up Kyle."

"Don't go hatin' me just because I'm right."

The five friends were now resting/hiding in Mike's house, as it had been the closest (if you can call an hour drive 'close'), and had spent the last three hours trying to get in touch with someone on a position of power to show their evidence.

This had proved more difficult than anticipated.

"So much for the State Troopers," Danny commented, crossing them off the list. "Next is…um…"

"Nobody!" Kyle exclaimed. "People, we've been calling every government organization we can think of. NO ONE is going to listen!"

"Who's 'we'?" Clarisse questioned. "Danny, Mike, and I are the one's doing all the work, Jaycee is still traumatized, and all _you've_ done is lie there and complain."

"The FBI, the CIA, the NSA," Kyle counted off his finger, ignoring Clarisse, "City Hall, the Governor, the Senator, the National Guard, the local police force (and someone's gonna have to explain to me why Danny has all these numbers), and if we're lucky, the guy on the other end will be nice enough to listen long enough to tell us we're stupidity incarnate _before_ they hang up. Enlighten me, what's the point in having proof of anything if no one's willing to suspend disbelief long enough to _look_ at it?!"

"Well we can't just give up!" Clarisse countered forcefully. "That thing has two kids with it. They could be in danger. They could be hostages! We can't just forget about them! We have to keep trying until we get someone who can help those kids and be willing to listen to us!"

"That girl said that a lot too, that we needed to just listen," Jaycee muttered quietly, curled up in a comforter cocoon on the armchair. She had been too quiet to be heard by the others.

"I vote we forget the official channels and just go public with this," Mike said, raising a hand. "We were in the wrong place at the wrong time and we could have gotten killed for it. We need to let everyone know what's going on before someone gets hurt."

"What a shock, the journalism major wants to break the story," Kyle observed dryly. Clarisse looked ecstatic.

"Yes, yes! Mike, you're a genius! If everyone knows what's going on, the government will HAVE to do something about it!"

"Whoa whoa whoa, time out people!" Danny interjected, making a 'T' with his hands. "We can't just blab this to the entire country. If everyone thinks there's an alien invasion or whatever, the entire nation is going to freak out. I'm pretty sure mass hysteria and confusion is going to be counter-productive here."

"You have no faith in humanity, do you?" Mike said. "Look, a lot of people will freak out, I'll give you that, but if everyone knows about it, that'll be 600 million pairs of eyes that'll be looking for the robots. How long can it hide like that?"

"Plus, if everyone knows, that's 600 million who might end up being in the right place at the right time to save those kids," Clarisse reminded them. "Remember, those kids safety comes first and foremost."

"Uh, hello? Am I the only one who thinks this is way over our heads?"

"Yes Kyle, you are."

"We don't know what's really going on," Danny went on. "For all we know, the government already has a bead on this thing and us going public will just screw everything up."

"The public needs to know about the danger!"

Kyle gave a shrill whistle to grab everyone's attention. "Here's an idea: hide the tape, get back to our summer break, go back to school in the fall, and keep our heads down in the meantime. We're not cops or government agents or freaking superheroes. We're just five soon to be collage juniors who wandered into a bad place. We have no training, no contacts, and no clue. Besides, if either of those honkin' huge robots carryin' the major firepower finds out we blew their cover, don't you think it might come to kill us?"

"The red one didn't want to hurt us," Jaycee said, a little louder. This time, she was heard.

And brushed off.

"It said it had no reason to kill us," Kyle corrected. "It probably figured no one would believe us any way, so it might as well save itself the trouble. Heh, it was right about that. Personally, I say we don't push our luck."

"So you solution is to forget everything?! What about those kids, you want to just abandon them? I can't believe you're being so heartless!"

"It sucks for them, but we're not the help they need!"

"That's why we have to keep quiet until we find someone willing to listen who HAS the power to help them."

"No, that's why we have to get this footage out to as many people as we can before someone else gets hurt!"

Danny held up his hands as if acting as a barrier between two opposing forces.

"Alright everyone, take a deep breath and calm down for a second.

"The way I see it, we have two options right now: go public with everyone," Mike and Clarisse nodded, "or keep quiet, at least for now if not indefinitely." Kyle almost said something, but bit his tongue and just nodded in agreement.

"So, let's take a vote. You think we go public? Raise your hand."

Up went Mike and Clarisse.

"Surprise, surprise," Kyle muttered.

"All who think we don't?"

Up went Danny, Kyle, no surprise there either. The REAL surprise came when, from deep within the recesses of the huge comforter, came a pale thin hand, raising as slowly but surely as new growth in the spring.

Clarisse was incredulous. "Jaycee? _Why_?"

"It's…it's not that I agree with Kyle or Danny," she said quietly, not making eye contact with anyone. "But, I don't think we should tell anyone about this, ever."

"Finally! Someone who get's it!" Kyle crowed, pumping a fist into the air.

"No."

"No?"

"I don't want to keep the secret because I'm afraid the robot will come back and hurt us. I want to keep the secret because, I don't think she's really dangerous."

"You…don't think 'she's'….dangerous?" Mike repeated slowly, disbelieving. Jaycee nodded.

"That girl, she kept saying the red one was her friend and one of the 'good guys.' And the robot herself, she could have killed us, but she didn't. She, she didn't even yell at us. That girl, and her brother, they went with her willingly. They, they weren't scared of her. That girl kept defending her. And that boy, he said all they wanted was his sister back.

"I don't know what's going on either, but…I don't think it's dangerous. And if it's not dangerous, I don't want to cause her any trouble. Besides, if she's one of the 'good guys,' I don't want to get in the way of her fighting with the bad guys."

No one had an answer for that.

"Well," Danny said at last, "that puts the vote 3-2, in favor of keeping quiet." He checked his watch. "Look, I'm tired, hungry, and stressed out. I, for one, can't think straight when I'm tired, hungry, and stressed. How about we put this on the back burner for now, order a pizza, and pick this up later in an hour or two?"

There were nods all around, two more reluctant than the rest.

The friends dispersed, Danny to call Papa Johns, Clarisse to the kitchen, Kyle to the cabinet where Mike's family kept the DVD's, Jaycee sinking into the comforter again for a light nap, and Mike himself upstairs to his room.

He trudged up the stairs, the discussion, and Jaycee's observations, heavy on his mind.

Now that he thought about it, Jaycee was right. The red robot scared them, sure, but it hadn't done anything to hurt them, even when it had the chance. It had bumped up against them during the chase, but never hard enough to do more than freak them out.

But more importantly, Jaycee had reminded them that Red wasn't the only problem: it had been fighting against a Green Robot, the larger and more heavily armed of the two.

Mike didn't know what the whole story was, but he couldn't, in good conscience, sit back and do nothing after what he saw. He and Clarisse thought alike in that sense.

Mike opened the door to his room. As always, the first thing he saw, across from the door, was his desk and his computer, powered down and waiting for his return.

For a second his resolve wavered, but his sense of duty wouldn't let him turn back now.

_The public needs to know._

* * *

With their supplies gone, and retrieving them being a non-option, Nolan had no choice but to fork over some of his money for a light, if late, lunch. Didn't mean he couldn't be stingy about it.

"A chilidog and a soda from 7-11," Aine observed with a wry grin. "Oh joy, the luxury is simple mind boggling, how can we ever afford it?"

"It was a major sacrifice, but you're worth it," Nolan explained solemnly, before breaking out in a grin of his own. "I even sprang for chips just for you!"

"Le gasp, Nolan, I am simply overwhelmed."

After a bathroom break and food purchase, the three of them had decided that the humans would lunch while Elita drove them out of the city, and by the time they had finished eating the city had been left far behind them.

They were all quiet for a few moment, comfortably so, the siblings lost in their own thoughts and looking out the window.

The silence was finally broken by Aine herself, asking the question that took her nearly five minutes to summon up the courage to ask.

"So Elita, that guy you were fighting: who WAS he? I mean, I figure he's a Decepticon, but he acted like he knew you personally, and you called him Onslaught. Do you two have a history, or something?"

Elita was silent for a long moment. "Yes," she said at last, "I know who he is. You both deserve to know, after what he forced you to go through. But to understand who Onslaught is, and why he hates me so, you first need to understand gestalt teams.

"Gestalt teams?"

"The Allspark is the source of all life on Cybertron, but most of its creations were born as self-sufficient and adult (if inexperienced and naïve) individuals. But gestalts can _only_ come from the Allspark. They are a group who were born together, to work together, to be together, and hold the unique ability to come together and form a single, gigantic Transformer with a single mind."

The two teen's brows shot up. "Wow. That's like, spark-bonds meet Power Rangers." Nolan said.

"What are 'Power Rangers'?"

"Nothing, I'm just being stupid."

"In any case, your illustration is a little inaccurate, but not entirely incorrect. They do share a bond unlike any other. Not as tight and binding as twins that share the same spark, or as intimate as bondmates, but something else entirely. It is…difficult to explain or understand, if you are not a gestalt member yourself. I have been told it is being your own person, yet knowing, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you are not alone."

"Like family," Aine said. "Like brothers. Or sisters."

"Yes. Onslaught was the leader of his own gestalt, the Combaticons, who combined to form Bruticus."

Nolan tried, and failed, not to snort. He was sure that, in Cybertronian, Onslaughts team name didn't sound nearly as stupid or obvious. Clearly, something was getting lost in translation here.

While Nolan tried not to laugh, Aine frowned.

"He 'was'?" Aine repeated. She started getting a sinking feeling in her stomach about where this was going, and why Onslaught had targeted Elita. "What happened to…"

"_I was supposed to arrive with my Division, but I had to separate from them to lead off a persistent group of Decepticons…I had dispatched the last of them when we received the transmission from Prime."_

Aine felt hollow in her stomach. "His, his brothers…you…?"

"Starscream had taken one of their members as a part of his own team when he left to search for the Allspark and Megatron, the one called 'Brawl'. They could not form Bruticus without him, and their team harmony and cohesiveness suffered for the absence. They, or rather Onslaught, underestimated how vulnerable that left them."

"So you just…his entire team?" Aine said weakly, shaking her head a little, not wanting to hear how her gentle, patient friend killed someone else's family in cold blood. "Did, did you really have to do that?"

"Do not sympathize too much for Onslaught," Elita warned. "They were soldiers, intent on my capture for interrogation, or my deactivation. Onslaught himself is a dangerous enemy, without mercy or compassion. He does not target me to avenge his team, he targets me because I was able to bring about the destruction of his entire team single-handedly, something that will stain his reputation for as long as I live. He will not allow that.

"As to your question: had I wished to spare their lives, I could not because I lacked the equipment to detain so many. I would not let them capture me, I would not let them kill me, and I would not let them escape to attack other Autobots because I would not do what was necessary.

"So you don't…I mean, I understand you had to protect yourself. But doesn't it bother you that you had to k…that you couldn't find another way?"

"…I performed my duty. I have no regrets."

Aine started at the coldness of Elita's tone. At her last four words, Aine felt like her esophagus was clenching shut. She had known, in her head, that Elita was a soldier, but only now was it sinking in what that actually _meant_.

It was so easy to forget that, for all her gentle nature and sophisticated speech patterns, Elita One was a hardened war machine.

Aine's tentative decision to talk to Elita about her episodes shriveled up and died.

"How'd you do it?" Nolan asked curiously. "You against, how many? I mean, no offense, but you looked like you were having enough trouble with Onslaught one-on-one. How'd you pick off the entire team?"

"Without Brawl, their team only numbered four. But this is not the appropriate time for such stories," Elita said, firmly but not angrily. Nolan glanced over at Aine, and suddenly wanted to kick himself for being so insensitive.

Those Decepticons may have had it coming (in his humble opinion), but they had still been living people, and Aine, the more sensitive of them, did not want to hear how they died.

"So what's gonna happen now?" Nolan asked instead.

"I estimate we have most of today to put as much distance as possible between us and Onslaught," Elita answered. "We will continue for the rest of the day and night, non-stop, and in the morning we will find a large city where the two of you will secure public transit back to Rochester."

Aine and Nolan blinked. "What?"

"Now that Onslaught is targeting me, it is no longer safe for two of you remain within close proximity of my person. So long as you are with me, you will be in danger. I am grateful for your help, but I will not knowingly keep you in the line of danger."

Nolan nodded. Elita was right; it was too dangerous now for them to stay together. They got lucky this time, but next time they might not.

Besides, his ultimate goal had been to get Aine out of Richard's house, and if Elita just dropped them off (and didn't ask to check the tickets), they'd go their separate ways and he'd never have to explain why they're NOT going back. His only requirement for a new home was 'not in Rochester.' He didn't care if they set down new roots in Nevada, Connecticut, or Canada.

Well, maybe not Canada. Their healthcare systems were supposed to be notorious.

"No!"

Nolan blinked.

"What?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said no!" Aine repeated. "I, I'm not ready to quit! Elita, you said you needed help getting to Tranquility and remaining unnoticed between here and there, right? That hasn't changed."

"My discretion and convenience is not worth your lives," Elita countered firmly, brooking no argument.

"With all due respect, ma'am, I think what I do with my life is my decision to make."

"No it's not!" Nolan protested. "Aine, I know how you feel, but this is getting too dangerous now. You were nearly killed and kidnapped in ONE morning! Doesn't that tell you anything?"

"I don't want to quit halfway!" Aine argued sharply. Nolan reeled back in astonishment, but Aine wasn't done yet. "I made a promise, and I'm going to see it through. I know the risks, but as long as we don't let Onslaught catch up out in the open again we'll be okay. He won't attack you where there'll be a lot of witnesses, right?"

"It is unlikely he would," Elita admitted. "He would not be so foolish as to draw attention from your military forces. He is proud, but not stupid.

"But that precaution will not be enough," Elita added. "Sooner or later, Onslaught WILL attack me again, and if you are with me, you will be in danger as well. The only question is whether you will be targets, hostages, or mere collateral damage."

"Listen to the Lady, Aine," Nolan said in a tone that hovered between an order and a plea. "It's too dangerous now, and Elita's got the maps and directions, and if she faces Onslaught again she's better off if she doesn't have to worry about us."

"Indeed. You need not concern yourself with my welfare, I will be able to navigate myself from here on out."

Aine set her lips in a thin line. "Elita, how far could you get before someone notices the car driving itself? What if you're forced off track again? What if other humans notice that you're not a normal car? When we met, you said you needed human guides to get to the Autobot base. THAT hasn't changed. I promised you that I'd help, and I won't back out of that.

"Nolan, I won't ask you to stay too. You can go home if you want, I'll understand. But I'm going to stay with Elita, keep my promise, and finish what I started.

"That's MY duty."

Nolan stared at her, slightly open mouthed in shock. He had never seen Aine like this before, with her heels dug in so firmly, so unwavering in her conviction. Then again, she had never had to before. She had usually just listened to him or Richard and just went along with what everyone else wanted to do. She had never resisted him like this, had never talked back to him like this.

But worst of all, she was talking like she didn't need him, like she could do just fine without him. She had no idea how much he was willing to sacrifice for _her_ sake. Did she forget how much he's done to take care of her? How much he's protected her? He wasn't going to finish high school or go to college, all because he was trying to take care of her! Why, why was she talking like this now?

Why couldn't she see reason and just follow his lead, like she always had before??

When it became clear Nolan wasn't going to be able to respond for a while yet, Elita took up the reins of the conversation.

"Aine, I appreciate your loyalty, and I admire your willingness to complete what you set out to do, but I am not certain you appreciate fully the danger that you are subjecting yourself to. I was able to force Onslaught to withdraw last time, but I will not be able to do so again. I cannot condone you…I cannot…"

"…Elita?" Aine asked, and Nolan snapped out of his stunned funk as déjà vu set in.

Elita swerved a little to the left and right, and drifted into the next lane.

"ELITA!" the humans shouted as at the same time the car next to them honked in a panic.

The commander quickly righted herself before she could crash into the other vehicle and retreated two lanes over, putting plenty of distance between herself and other drivers.

"My apologies. I seem to be a little more drained than I thought."

"Elita, please tell me you didn't nod off while driving."

"I did not slip into momentary recharge while driving. I merely blacked out for a second or two."

"WHAT?!"

"My reserves are low. It would seem I will not be able to continue for the next sixteen hours as I had hoped. Do not panic Nolan, I will stop and find whatever energy source I can tonight. Until then, I request you both remain silent. I need to concentrate if I am to avoid another relapse."

Nolan and Aine exchanged a look, and while they had absolute trust in Elita's judgment and driving skills, they both couldn't help but discreetly check their seatbelts.

And so the 'convince-Aine-to-jump-ship-with-Nolan' talk was put on hold, at least until tonight.

* * *

Later that afternoon of the same day (about 5:45, if you want to be specific), Maggie Madsen was in her new corner office in the Pentagon, going over important printouts her team had pulled together for her.

After Mission City, Keller had offered her a promotion, a place on his own staff, and (you guessed it) a corner office as the cherry on top. It came with her own team that she got to hand pick herself, along with a pretty door that introduced her as Maggie Madsen, Senior Analyst. It still gave her a fuzzy feeling when she thought about it, since she was the youngest person to currently hold that title, not to mention the only woman.

And, secretly, she loved scandalizing some of the older staff with her nose stud and Chinese character tattoo on her neck.

Maggie's phone rang, and she marked her place before answering.

"Senior Analyst Madsen here," was Maggie's first response. Or it should have been, except she only got as far as "Sen-" before she was drowned out.

"MAGGIE! Get on YouTube right now, you've gotta see this!!"

Maggie held the phone away from her ear in the interest of preserving her hearing. Glen Whitman was in fine form today, if he was able to hit those kind of decibel levels right off the bat.

"Glen? Glen, what are you talking about?" Maggie asked, once she deemed it safe to put the phone back to her ear.

"If I told you, you won't believe me, so I'm telling you instead to get on YouTube and see it for yourself."

Maggie rubbed her temple and briefly wondered what possessed her to insist having Glen on her team.

Oh, right. Genius hacker, and all that.

"Glen, if this is about another 80's cartoon someone uploaded…" Maggie growled.

"I swear on my Grandma's grave that this is a for real emergency! And don't pretend you weren't happy to watch the classic Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles again!"

"You're grandmother isn't dead, Glen, that doesn't mean anything," Maggie pointed out, deliberately ignoring his last comment.

"Not the point!"

Now, Maggie had two choices: tell Glen to stop goofing off and get back to work, in which case he'd protest and keep calling her until she relented, costing her time and patience, OR she could humor him and get it over with, on the off chance that Glen actually had a valid concern…on YouTube.

"What am I supposed to be looking for?" Maggie asked, pulling up the internet window and resigning to her fate.

"It's only been up for a few hours, but it's so popular it's still on the front page."

"What were you doing on YouTube in the first place, anyway?"

"I was on my break!"

"Glen, you'd better not have been goofing off…" Maggie spied the little box and suspicious title seconds after the window loaded, "…again."

The title was "Real Danger – Invasion and Robots", the screen shot of one mechanical person firing a weapon with glowing blue eyes. Maggie was already getting a very, very bad feeling about this.

"Wait 'till you see the video," Glen said, somehow managing to sound both apprehensive and smug at the same time.

With a growing sense of dread and disbelief, Maggie obediently clicked it.

For nearly five minutes, Maggie watched a pitched fight between two gargantuan (the trees made for a good reference for size) robotic beings being recorded by an amateur filmmaker, one red and lithe, the other green and hulking. In the last few seconds, a hand covered the lens, and the camera jostled violently for a few seconds before the hand moved to briefly reveal a boy in his late teens or early twenties, presumably the original camera man, before the camera itself was hurled down and the screen went black.

Now, Maggie didn't recognize either combatant personally, but after pausing and examing the screen (read "stare dumbly") at several key points, she couldn't deny the increasingly obvious.

"Oh my god," she said.

"Yep," Glen replied, still on the phone. "Looks like a couple of bona-fide Cybertronians to me. Some guy caught them on Candid Camera and uploaded the video a few hours ago. Looks like he knows what he saw."

Maggie pulled her eyes away from the video and read the filmmakers comments in the grey box to the right of it:

"If you're reading this, you're now one of the people who know what's going on. This morning, I found these two fighting, and my first thought was that it was a movie set or something, before one of the missiles went off over my head and nearly killed me. One of them turned into a car and chased me down when I tried to escape, but I was able to save the tape. I don't know what they are or what they're doing here, but everyone's in danger and everyone needs to know these things are out there. They can pretend to be regular cars and stuff, but if everyone looks out, they can't hide forever. Call your police, the FBI, the Army, anyone you can. We have to work together if we're going to protect ourselves from these things.

"The red one had two humans with it, kids, a boy and a girl. I don't know what their story is, but they might be in danger. If you find yourself in a position to save them, DO IT. They're counting on you.

"This is NOT a trick, a trailer, a trick with Photoshop, or anything fake. This is REAL, it's happening to us NOW. You have to believe me, or we're all in serious trouble."

Maggie read it over three times, shaking her head. "How…what…how'd this happen? Never mind. Glen, can you get this off the internet and find this guy? And make a copy of this video, for Keller and the Autobots?"

"Video copy? No problem. Make the video disappear? After I pose as an admin and freeze the guys account, no problem. That'll take down all his videos automatically. But you want me to find this guy, that'll take a while, and I'll have to do it _before_ I freeze him, otherwise I'm just covering his tracks for him and it's a no-go."

"How long will it take?"

"Hour, hour and a half at most. More if he's a hacker too and knows how to hide."

Maggie rubbed her temple for a few seconds in thought.

"Fine. Find this guy first, and then freeze him." Maggie scrolled down to read some of the comments being left for the video. "Most people think it's a trailer for a movie next year or something, so at least no one's taking it seriously. But this guy needs to be stopped before he does any real damage."

"On it Maggie. Later!" Click, and the hacker was off to save the day, Glen-style.

Maggie hung up her own phone, and watched the last few seconds of the video again, as the camera was stolen and destroyed.

"Someone didn't want this getting out," Maggie commented to herself. One of the 'hostages' perhaps? She picked up the phone again, this time to dial her direct like to Defense Secretary Keller himself.

But as the video played again, a realization hit Maggie with such force, her finger froze in mid dial. Her mind blanked for several seconds before spinning around again at warp speed, completely unprepared with this new realization, this new clarity, of something so shocking and unexpected.

"_I can always deal with Decepticons. Elita One has no fear."_

That voice again, icy, powerful, and unmistakably feminine.

_Alien robots have _genders_??_

* * *

**AN**: The 'drinking blood' thing isn't mine, but it was just too good to pass up.

I got it from another story I read, written by Stormy 1x2 and called "Unlikely Partners." It's in the Ninja Turtles section, but it's a crossover with Transformers. It's only three chapters on, so it's great for a quick read. AND it's got Sideswipe in it, what more can you ask for? Go check it out! :)


	9. Ch 9 Dissemination of Information

**AN**: Wow, it's been a little while, hasn't it? Over a month, I almost couldn't believe it myself. I hit a horrendous writer's block with the first part, but once I was over the hump the rest came pretty quick, until I got to the end. I think I spent more time on this chapter than I did all the others, and I think it shows. Not only is it my longest chapter yet, we also learn something new about Mama O'Connell. I hope ya'll like it!

I'm also long overdue for admitting something else, which I realized recently and am embarrassed by. Remember Alicia Grit? She's an original character, but I got her last name, Grit, from another story, called "Paint Chips", over in the Transformers/Beast Wars section. The author, Ashana, has only written one chapter and hasn't picked it up since June, and it didn't occur to me to wonder if I should have asked for her permission to use the surname. It's an awesome beginning, so everyone go to her story and give her lots of reviews and love! Hopefully, she'll be inspired to pick it up again!

**Disclaimer**: If I owned Transformers, characters like Elita would get a lot more appreciation, Speaking of which, Elita's power-siphoning thing, I got from An Cailin Rua's story "Naturalized", a totally awesome movie-verse fic.

TPWIP is still inspired by **Ray of Starlight**'s "Twin Times the Fun."

* * *

Ch. 9 – Dissemination of Information

"You stupid, short-sighted, moronic IMBICILE! Do you have any idea what you've DONE??"

"I can guess, but please, do tell anyway," came the dry reply.

"This isn't funny! Is this another joke of yours? A power trip? You don't even care how badly you've just screwed us over!"

"Look, I'm sorry I went behind your backs, but I can't just sit around and pretend nothing's wrong. I didn't use any names or anything, so if you don't want anyone to know that you, or anyone else, was there, fine. I'll take the fall, you don't have to worry."

"Very noble, Mike, but that's NOT what I'm talking about. Okay, I get you wanted to get this footage out for everyone to see, but YouTube? _YouTube_?? Nobody's going to believe anything they saw first on YOU-freaking-TUBE!!"

Clarisse and Kyle, rather than joining the battle and supporting their respective sides, wisely remained out of the fray and mostly acted as referees, just in case. The argument had been going on for nearly twenty minutes now, and neither combatant showed any signs of stopping. Far be it for them to interfere.

"I don't think I've ever seen Danny this mad before," Clarisse commented quietly to Kyle, her eyes fixated on a bulging vein on Danny's forehead.

"I think the only reason they haven't started punching yet is because they're best friends," Kyle whispered back, equally fascinated by the rare (albeit totally understandable) blowout. "Not sure how long that's going to hold out though."

Jaycee, meanwhile, had tuned them all out and was reading the comments left on the video in curiosity.

It was about eight in the evening, and everyone was gathered in the home office. The video had been discovered by Kyle a little while earlier, when he had decided to surf the internet to get his mind off the absolute insanity of the day for a few minutes. Needless to say, it hadn't worked out well.

"It was the fastest way to get the footage to as many people as possible," Mike was saying in his defense. "Even if no one believes it first off, if even one of those people sees either of those robots again, they'll know they're not crazy and they're not alone."

"Fat lot of good that'll do if they get _hurt_ because they panic or decide to be stupid and get their own footage. That's why I wanted to use the *proper* channels: so that the people with the power and the tools could do something about this before _innocent people got HURT_!"

"I don't think we'll have to worry about people taking this seriously, anyway," Jaycee mentioned. "There're nearly a hundred comments already, and they all agree that the video is most likely clever marketing for a secret movie next year, kind of like what they did for 'Cloverfield.' See, one of the commenter's left a link to a discussion board already."

"Really?" Clarisse said, turning away from the show and leaning over Jaycee's shoulder. "Wow, it's only been a few hours. They work fast."

Jaycee clicked the link, and even Mike and Danny put their argument aside for the moment in favor of curiosity – the sort of curiosity that makes people want to slow down as they pass the scene of a car crash.

The discussion board site wasn't elaborate, just the bare bones, but there were several threads already, with titles like "Dissecting the Trailer," "Director and Actors/Actresses", "You Planning on Seeing It?", and the like, the most popular of which already had eight pages of comments. Clarisse read the thread title of that one out loud.

"'Female Robot Protagonist: Feminism or Sexism?'"

"I'm so glad that bona fide footage of violent alien robots can lead to such philosophical online debates instead of, you know, panic," Kyle deadpanned.

"That's a bit of an over simplification, don't you think?" Clarisse reprimanded gently, not taking her eyes off the screen.

Jaycee made a note of the website address to examine later at her leisure, and hit the back button so she could scan over the rest of the video comments (really, it's surprising the love/hate reactions the red robot was getting).

But instead of pulling up the video, all she got was the YouTube home page with a pink bar across the top and black words with an ominous message:

**The video you are trying to find has been removed due to plagiarism.**

"Say what?!" Mike exclaimed. "Plagiarism?? What the heck?"

Jaycee scooted out of the chair to let Mike take her place. Mike tried to log into his account, but instead received another message:

**Your YouTube account has been frozen.**

"Say WHAT?!"

"Didn't see that coming," Danny commented mildly.

"Anyone else gettin' a REALLY bad feeling about this?" Kyle asked. "I mean, c'mon, plagiarism? Even _I_ think that's pretty weak."

The doorbell rang, and Jaycee took the opportunity to leave the room, since no one else had seemed to notice, too preoccupied with the lost footage and keeping Mike calm.

The bell rang incessantly, and Jaycee felt slightly annoyed by it. What, did they think the more she rang the faster she'd come? She wasn't a trained dog, thank you very much.

Jaycee opened the door and looked out…and up.

"Wow you're tall," was the first thing that popped of her mouth.

The man in the suit visibly preened.

* * *

_Several minutes earlier_

This wasn't the first time that Simmons had to seal a security leak, and it wasn't even his first time dealing with civilians in the process, even before Sector Seven had been dissolved. Finding the leak on YouTube? Well, that was a new one, though he had admit he'd been expecting something to happen like that since Mission City. Seriously, in an age with camera phones, disposable cameras, security cameras on store fronts and intersections, satellites, and what have you, it's amazing that all footage of the NBE's has remained contained for as long as it had.

Bad news: the NBE security had been compromised, and if it happened again it would be much harder to convince the public that there wasn't anything going on. There would forever be this chink in the wall because some kid was in the wrong place in the wrong time.

Simmons liked to think that, had Sector Seven _not_ been dissolved, this wouldn't have happened.

But, there was some good news: the leak wasn't stuck on the roof this time.

Simmons pulled out his cell phone and hit the speed dial as the van pulled up the driveway. The phone only rang once before it was answered. Simmons didn't bother waiting for the person on the other end to say something.

"Leak's been located. Get the video down ASAP."

He snapped the phone shut and stepped out of the van.

The objective was simple: confiscate the original video and take the camera man into custody, along with anyone else in the residence. Lord knew that if the guy was willing to put the video on YouTube, chances are he's already shared it with his own family.

The door opened, and Simmons was mildly surprised to see a young girl, probably about nineteen or twenty, pretty in a plain sort of way. He'd been expecting a young man to match the voice over on the video.

The girl came to his chest, and she looked up at him. "Wow you're tall."

Simmons couldn't stop a little grin. "Evening miss. Is 'likemike18' here?"

The girl did a double take. "Likemike…Mike? Why? What do you want with Mike? Who _are_ you?" she asked, starting to close the door a little as if it was a shield. Simmons wasn't having any of that.

He stuck his foot out to stop the door in place and whipped out his new badge. "We're with the government: Reconnaissance and Discretion Agency," he informed her briskly.

The girl's eyes widened at 'government.' She hadn't looked terribly strong before, but now she looked about ready to pass out. "Government…?"

"May we enter the premises, miss?"

Even as he asked, Simmons was pushing the door open and letting himself in. Jaycee was forced aside lest she be knocked down by the river of black suits suddenly flooding into the house. Jaycee looked completely helpless, wanting to say something but too intimidated to try.

Mike wasn't.

"What? What the hell are you people *doing* here?" he demanded, exiting the office with his friends behind them. The sudden noise had drawn them out, and the invasion wasn't doing anything for his temperament. "Get out of my house!"

*That must be him,* Simmons thought, giving the younger man a cursory look.

"Earlier today you posted a video of a couple of Non-Biological Extraterrestrials. We're here for the tape."

"They said they're with the government," Jaycee said quietly from behind Simmons, squeezing her fingers in anxiousness.

Mike and Danny stared blankly at him before they exchanged a look, as if asking 'is this going to be a good thing or a bad thing?'

"We'll also be needing you to come with us Mike."

Bad thing. Definitely, definitely a bad thing.

"Whoa! Nobody's going anywhere with anyone until you explain just what the hell you guys are doing here!" Clarisse interjected, bearing forward like an angry lioness, fists on her hips and glaring at Simmons. Kyle made frantic gestures for her to shut up and get back, but she ignored him. "Besides, until you show me a warrant, we don't *have* to give you anything."

"For the love of god, would you shut up already before you make this any worse?!" Kyle implored in a fierce whisper, feeling like the last voice of reason again. THIS was why he wanted to forget the whole thing! Why didn't anybody ever listen to the voice of reason?

"Got it."

Six heads (the Blue Car Crew and Simmons) turned at the voice, to see Duane coming down the stairs will a little black tape in gloved hand.

"Wha…you searched my room?!" Mike exclaimed, lunging forward. Danny and Kyle grabbed him before he could do anything stupid (like tackle a government agent to the ground), but Mike was still livid. "That's a violation of my constitutional rights! Where's your warrant?"

"Kid, you're constitutional rights went out the window the minute you became a threat to national security."

Mike mental processes skidded to a halt. "What?"

Simmons pulled out a plastic bag from a pocket inside his jacket and opened it with a flick of a wrist for Duane to drop the tape in. "Long story short son, you just jumped head first into a major government secret, and it's my job to stop you from doing anything stupid. Anything ELSE stupid," he corrected himself.

Duane took the bag, and Simmons spread his palms to the younger group with a smile. "I suggest you make this easier on yourselves and just come quietly. That goes for the rest of you too."

"They didn't do anything!" Mike exclaimed suddenly. "They weren't even there, I haven't even shown them the tape, they don't know anything!"

"Very noble of you son. They're still coming too."

Clarisse stepped up. "And if we don't?" she asked, crossing her arms and sounding belligerent to cover up just how nervous this whole affair was making her.

Simmons met her eyes evenly. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Easy way means you and your buddies come along quietly. The hard way means I'll have to put you and all your buddies under arrest for treason," he told her coolly.

Clarisse squeaked. Kyle's mouth flapped open and closed as he made a choking sound, gesturing wildly.

"You guys just exposed a major government secret to the entire globe," Simmons said, in answer to the question Kyle couldn't choke out. "Trust me, you don't want to push your luck now."

Kyle swallowed.

The five friends were lead out of the house single file, each with an agent at their shoulder in case someone got the bright idea to make a break for it. Danny, last in line, paused in his step just inside the door and looked back over his shoulder at Simmons.

"Wait, 'government secret?' So you guys already knew about this? Just what's going on?"

"You don't get to ask the questions Sport. Besides, you're in enough hot water already. You really don't want to know more than you have to, not if you want to finish college."

Danny scurried out the door.

Behind Simmons, Agent Grit leaned over slightly to speak quietly to Duane. "He wouldn't really have them arrested for treason, would he? That's a little extreme, even for him."

"Doesn't really matter, since we can't MAKE arrests anyway," Duane answered, leaning back a little to respond. "Technically, we're not law enforcement. We can detain people, and we get a lot of leeway if there's a _confirmed_ security risk, but we don't have the power to make formal arrests. But they don't know that."

Grit gave him a disapproving look. Duane shrugged. "Well, it works, doesn't it?"

As the parade of black vehicles pulled away from the suburban home, the five huddled together in the back of one of the SUV's, no one saying a word. Clarisse held Jaycee's hand on her right, Mike's on her left. Danny had his arms crossed and head lowered, deep in thought, while Kyle just looked out the tinted windows without seeing the view.

It felt like an eternity before someone broke the oppressive silence.

"Told you we should've kept quiet."

"Shut up Kyle."

* * *

_8:00, that same night, near the Missouri-Kansas border_

Aine had thought she was being optimistic when she guessed the trio would be able to get as far as Jefferson City, but by the time they finally had to stop they were nearly 150 miles past it. Elita had pushed herself for as long as she could, until her energy levels were falling into the red and she was forced to stop to refuel. There was a power plant nearby, where she planned to tap into the energy grid and siphon off enough electricity to get her by. Aine wasn't entirely comfortable with Elita essentially stealing energy from the plant and the nearby city, but as Nolan pointed out, desperate times called for desperate measures, and Elita didn't exactly have a smorgasbord of options here.

However, Elita was leery of having a pair of delicate humans in her interior while she was running a constant current of thousands of watts of pure electricity for an hour or two, so she dropped them off at the closest Maverick to wait. So while Elita went off to scavenge for her dinner, Nolan purchased a couple of sandwiches and Milk Jugs for himself and Aine.

Nolan and Aine opted to eat outside on the curb. It was a clear night, warm, and their slice of the world was sparsely populated. It was one of those areas made for people just passing through, located way out in the middle of nowhere, supported by a couple of gas stations, a handful of fast food restaurants, and one motel for drowsy drivers a little ways down the vast, empty road. Currently, the entire area was mostly deserted. The only car nearby belonged to guy working behind the counter.

The siblings sat with a couple of feet between them, eating in silence. The tension was thickening, had been thickening ever since their argument earlier that day. Both desired to be understood, but neither was sure how to broach the topic again in a non-confrontational manner. Nolan was leaning on one hand and swishing his Milk Jug bottle with the other, watching the remaining liquid splash and spin against the sides as if hypnotized. Aine pretended to examine her nails, occasionally tapping a foot in a nervous manner, trying to pry the right words from the depths of her mind.

Nolan beat her to the punch.

"Elita doesn't exactly need-need us to protect her, you know," Nolan started suddenly, not taking his eyes off his bottle. "I mean, she pretty much kicked Onslaughts ass while we hid in the bushes. She's not exactly helpless."

Aine shrugged, still picking at her fingernails.

"And Onslaughts really dangerous, but he only has eyes for Elita right now," he went on. "He doesn't care about hurting humans or collateral damage, or any of that. As long as we're with Elita, we're only going to be a…liability to her."

The word left a bitter taste in his mouth, but it was the truth.

Aine continued to stare down in her lap.

Nolan scooted a little closer and put a hand on his sister's shoulder. "Look, I know you really like Elita. I do too. Frankly, I think meeting her was the best thing that ever happened to us. But we only signed on as guides. With Onslaught in the picture, it's too dangerous for us now. I'm sorry, but that's how it is."

Aine drew up her knees a little, dropped her shoulders a little, lowered her head a little, so that she curled up a little within herself and seemed to shrink right before Nolan's eyes, and she still wasn't saying anything or even looking at him. Her pigtails had fallen over her shoulders, obscuring most of her face, but he could make out the glistening corner of one eye. Nolan felt his gut twist in guilt, but he knew this had to be said and done. He gave her shoulder a light squeeze.

"Elita and I, we both just want you to be safe. That's why we're doing this."

Aine was quiet for a long moment except for the occasional sniffle. With a deep breath she lifted her head and leaned back on her hands. She looked up at the sky, red and orange in the summer sunset. Already a few stars were peeking through, twinkling merrily. It was these stars that Aine focused on.

"Do you know why staying with Elita is so important to me?" she asked.

Nolan blinked and withdrew his hand. Well, that wasn't quite the reaction he'd been expecting. "Um, because she's our friend, and you're worried about her, right? You can't help that, but…"

Nolan trailed off as Aine shook her head.

"You're right, but that's only half of it.

"Nolan, two days ago we were a pair of regular kids on summer break. Then an alien landed almost in our backyard asking for help. I mean, we've made contact with intelligent extraterrestrial life. Robotic life, sure, but she's as much alive as you and I are. I mean, no matter what happens next, nothings ever going to be the same.

"It's not that I hated my life or anything, but…for the first time in my life I feel like I'm a part of something important, something bigger than myself, that I can give more and offer more than just live-in maid service. I made a promise, and if I go back on it, if I just give up, then I'll never forgive myself for being weak, for being a coward."

Aine rolled her head around her shoulders as she searched for the right words.

"I…Nolan, you've always been there for me, and I love you for that. But now, with Elita, this mission, even the danger…scratch that, maybe because of the danger, I feel…strong. Important. Like I really *matter*. Nolan, this is the most important thing I've ever done in my life, the *best* thing I've done with my life. I guess what it comes down to is, I want to know I've done at least on great good thing for another person before I die."

"You're only fourteen Aine," Nolan pointed out. "You've got another seventy years or so to do that."

Aine shrugged and smiled sadly with a distant look, and Nolan wondered what she was thinking of right then.

"Maybe I'm just being selfish," she went on. "but this is the first time I've felt like I was taking my life into my own hands, walking on my own two feet, making my own choices. If I-" Aine's voice cracked a little, and she cleared her thought to regain composure, "if I run away now, I'll go back to being the weak little girl I was before, who always needed someone to hold my hand. I won't be strong anymore. I don't know if I'll have another chance TO be strong. I'm not ready to let that go yet."

Nolan stared at her profile, turning this new revelation over in his head, as varied and conflicting emotions surged below his thoughts, emotions he couldn't give names too, and didn't entirely WANT to give names too. In his unbalanced moment, he said his next words more harshly than he had intended.

"Button, we're talking about a war and personal vendettas, not a Disney movie about the road to self-discovery."

Aine cringed and quickly curled back into herself. Nolan had the overpowering urge to pullout his tongue for running a head of his brain.

He pulled his hand down over his face and sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. It's just...I don't want you to get hurt."

Aine smiled as she gave him a side long glance, scooting a little closer to her brother.

"I know. You said that already. But really, if you think about it, nothing's really changed. Elita needs our help to get to Tranquility as fast as possible otherwise she'd have to take more roundabout routes to avoid being seen by anybody. And since her ultra-advance Cybertronian GPS is on the fritz, she won't be able to navigate her way, at least not easily. Really, that'll just make her even more vulnerable. At least with us, she can take the shortest path and go through cities where Onslaught can't touch her. She already said he won't attack if there are a lot of witnesses." Aine shrugged. "The way I see it, Onslaught just means fewer pit stops."

Now Nolan was the one to lean back on his hands and look up into the sky. The sun had lowered further, and the sky wasn't quite as brilliantly painted anymore, shifting more to cool blues and purples, with more stars coming out as the sun waned. It was a clear night. Nolan only wished his mind was too, that his thoughts and counter points were as easy to pick out as the stars in the sky were.

As he thought, Aine scooted just a little bit closer, nibbling her bottom lip. "Nolan…Nolan, you don't have to give me your blessing here and now, or anything. I just want you to think about this, about why I need to do this. If you do that, and you still honestly, truly believe that I shouldn't do this, then I'll respect that. I just ask that you don't just brush it off."

Nolan rolled his head around to look at Aine seriously. "That's all?"

"If you promise to really think about it, then yes, that's all."

Nolan let his head fall back and hang from his neck, so that he stared straight up and all he could see was the sky. "Guess that's all I can promise you then. Right then: I promise I'll think long and hard about what you said, and I'll have an answer for you in the morning."

Aine gave him a wide, heartfelt smile, and scooted over until she had closed the distance between them. She leaned against him and laid her head on his shoulder. "Thank you."

Nolan wrapped an arm around her shoulder and hugged her close.

"Um, Aine? About earlier, before…um, back before the library, when I was…I mean, I didn't mean to…I…I shouldn't of, you know…you know I'd never *intentionally* try hurt you, so, um…"

Aine stretched up and gave Nolan a peck on the cheek.

"Apology accepted. I love you too."

Nolan relaxed as he released tension in his shoulders he hadn't even realized he'd been carrying until now, and squeezed Aine's shoulders. He gave the top of her head a kiss and laid his cheek against her head. The two of them fit together perfectly, always, in everything.

They didn't say much else after that, just sat there and waited, looking at the stars, Aine thinking about meeting the Autobots and putting together the best argument ever to convince Elita not to make her leave, and Nolan holding her close so that she wouldn't look up and see him trying not to cry.

* * *

The thing that made energon the most desirable source of fuel for a Cybertronian is that it packed a tremendous amount of energy in a relatively small amount of space, more if it was high-grade, (a.k.a. "the good stuff"), in convenient liquefied servings for a Cybertronian to consume as needed. Energon goodies were even more compact, ideal for field rations. Plus, femmes were designed to be more energy efficient than the mechs and required less energon, and energy, to function and survive, as little as half.

That being said, when thought of in human terms even a small femme required tremendous amounts of energy to continue normal functionality day to day, and Elita was not a small femme. Which is why, as she tapped into the plants energy grid, she only planned to take enough to fill her reserves exactly halfway, and not one watt more. Were she to fill to capacity, she'd force at least a third of the nearby city into a blackout.

Not exactly discreet.

As Elita's internals hummed with energy, she herself fell into deep thought.

In all honesty, Aine's loyalty touched her deeply. They had known each other for only a couple of days, short even in human terms, yet she was already willing to remain with her despite the danger. She took up a duty, as self-appointed as it was, and she took it seriously. Elita could not help but admire that.

But Elita had duties and responsibilities of her own, which included protecting innocent lives and not allowing the fallout of their war to pull in innocent bystanders, those who had no place in the fighting, who shouldn't _have_ to fight their battles with them. The responsible action would be to get them away from herself as soon as possible. Onslaught will not care about them if they leave. She should send them back home, where they will be safe.

Home…right. Send them back to where that slagger of a creator waited for them. That was a _wonderful_ alternative.

Elita thought of Aine, so gentle and sweet, she could see how the younger human was trying to do the best for everyone in spite in spite of her youth, hiding her own insecurities because she did not wish to burden others. Elita thought of Nolan, his humor and affection, even his mood swings, trying so hard to be an adult though he was still a youngling, even in the eyes of his own people. The thought, the mere possibility, of sending those two back to Richard, a creature who prioritized his personal safety over his own children, who bullied and belittled them to empower himself, it made her sick, made her angry, made her want to make him pay for the future pain he would cause them.

She forced herself to calm down (refueling was pointless if she was going to burn it up by running her systems hot in a fury), but it was hard. She wanted the humans to be safe, but their sanctuary would not be with Richard.

_Perhaps Aine is right,_ Elita thought_. She and Nolan are my best chance to reach the Autobot Base as swiftly as possible with minimal detours. We could outrace Onslaught, and the children are safer with me than with Richard._

Oh, who was she kidding? The truth was, no matter how logical she tried to be about it, she just plain wanted to keep the children with her a little while longer. Already, the thought of separation, and the possibility of never seeing them again, made her feel sick and sad, as if a cold stone settled in her tanks.

So, she couldn't keep them with her, because her convenience wasn't worth the risk. But she couldn't send them home either, that would be like throwing a young petro-rabbit to a hungry cyber-hound. So what was the third option?

The mother.

True, Nolan truly believed that she would never contact them again, but Elita herself couldn't conceive that the woman would leave her children for five years without a word since. It was easier to believe that, somehow, Richard had been blocking all communication attempts on the mother's part to isolate the children from her, if only to display the power and control he held over all their lives, even if Nolan didn't know he was doing it.

Then again, even if that was true, it did not change the fact that she had left willingly, and while Elita couldn't fault her for wanting to escape a bad situation, she was less sympathetic about her choosing to leave her children behind IN that bad situation.

But back to the first hand, even if Nolan didn't know where their mother was exactly, or if she was not a suitable guardian either, surely she had family willing to take the children in, give them a safe, inviting home? She could ask Aine about extended family later. She still needed to speak to her anyway, about what was 'off' about her at the library earlier.

Elita's reserves hit the halfway mark, and not a second too soon did she detach herself from the grid. She left under the cover of darkness, and except for a handful of confused on duty technicians, no one was the wiser.

At least, no one in Missouri.

* * *

While Simmons chased leaks and Elita leaked power, the Autobots weren't sitting idle either. At that moment in Nevada, Optimus was taking his turn at the console, leaning forward in his chair and flicking through satellite images and tracking down any news reports that sounded suspicious, hoping to find something, anything, to help Jazz and Bumblebee or to identify who the newcomers were. They didn't have any satellites of their own, but with the hundreds of satellites already in orbit, they hardly needed one. With some clever hacking and programming, the Autobots were able to use Teletraan-2 to essentially piggy-back on the transmissions of satellites already in place. They just had to be sure to grab the right ones that had cameras and news stations on the other end, since it didn't do them much good to grab something from MTV by mistake (no matter WHAT Jazz might say).

In any case, even with so many eyes in the skies, it wasn't as big a boon as most might think. For one, they could only use one 'eye' at a time. For another, they weren't entirely sure what they were looking for. Well, no, that was an oversimplification; they knew what they were looking for, but they had no idea what size or shape the needle was in the extremely large haystack. It didn't help that they were looking for a pair of Transformers, for whom being able to change and blend seamlessly into the environment was the entire point.

Optimus heard the door open behind him, and he turned his head to see Ironhide stomping in, his entire frame radiating extreme annoyance. Without any preamble he groused, "I am becoming increasingly convinced that 99% of humans are completely incapable of independent thought. Refresh my memory: why are we allied with them again?"

"They're letting us remain on their planet in peace and even create a sanctuary for other Autobots to come."

"Ah. Right. The Ark is still on the moon, you sure we can't just stay there and be done with it?"

Optimus turned back to the screens so Ironhide wouldn't see his grin. For all his complaining, Ironhide would never leave Earth so easily, especially after spending so much time with the Lennox's – a natural side effect of Will Lennox being reassigned as the military-Autobot liaison. And Optimus certainly had *no* idea how much his battle hardened Weapons Specialist simply adored baby Annabelle, nope, none at all.

Speaking of the Lennoxs, Optimus asked "Has Lennox been able to secure us transport?"

Ironhides scowl returned with a vengeance. "He's trying, but whoever thought up the system thought it would be a riot to make everything as convoluted as possible! Lennox has to contact five different people who have to get permission from ten more each who have to contact their superiors who may or may not get back to them sometime this week. You could choke UNICRON with all the red tape they're throwing at us! Primus, at this rate nothing short of another full scale Decepticon attack is going to get us results before next year!"

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," Optimus said, though he too felt slightly frustrated.

They needed to get a large aircraft on standby, something that could transport himself, Ironhide, and Ratchet to Jazz and Bumblebee's location if need be. The tricky part was finding something big enough for them all, not currently in use, able to be spared for a few days even if they ended up not needing it, and won't be missed if they did. Granted, they most likely wouldn't _need_ a few days, but right now Optimus was going to err on the side of caution and keep their options open. It wasn't just finding the plane – it was getting the permission without creating a paper trail as to WHY it was needed it at all or WHERE it was going.

Primus, if it was this hard to get an aircraft for a few days, how much harder was it going to be to wrangle enough cooperation for the Autobots to bring their ship, the Ark, down to Earth eventually?

"I can handle Decepticons," Ironhide muttered darkly, crossing his arms. "Just keep me away from the bureaucrats."

Any further talk/complaining was cut off by a pinging from the console, and an alert popping up onscreen:

**Incoming Message: Reconnaissance and Discretion Agency.**

"Great, just what my day needs: human sized weasels," Ironhide muttered. He was probably still the most angry with Sector 7, and by association Simmons, for capturing Bumblebee. While the others could be professional if not friendly, it was generally best not to let the black 'bot speak to Simmons in the interest preserving human/Cybertronian relations.

Not responding to Ironhide, Optimus answered the pinging, and up on the monitor a new screen popped up, this time of a blond woman in a black suit, sunglasses in chest pocket. Optimus recognized her, from the last couple of times the RDA had needed to contact them. Technically, that should have been Simmons job since he outranked her, but she hadn't been with Sector 7, so there wasn't any past history to muddy the waters. It was just easier for everyone this way.

"Evening Optimus Prime," she greeted with a polite nod.

"Agent Grit," Optimus greeted in turn. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Earlier today, we confiscated some video footage from a kid that ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time," Grit explained briskly, not unfriendly, just overly professional. "The footage shows two Cybertronians in a fire fight, far from any cities, thank god. He got it on YouTube before we found out, but all traces of the video have been purged from the internet. Our specialists are tying up the loose ends as we speak."

Optimus' brow lifted in surprise, and Ironhide stared at her incredulously. "Why didn't anybody *tell* us about this?" the latter mech exclaimed with a touch of anger. Grit flinched slightly, but her voice betrayed no emotion.

"We acted as soon as we learned of it as well. We have the original tape, and the filmmaker and his associates are in custody right now, until they're well convinced not to speak of this to anyone." Grit lowered her eyes and, off screen, typed something on her computer. "I'm sending you a copy of the footage over our secure channel. We were hoping you'd be able to identify one or both of them. If we know who our targets are, it might be easier to predict what they'll do next before they have a chance to hurt anyone. Oh, and according to the witnesses, the children are with the red one."

Just as promised, another pinging alerted to the message. Grit waited patiently, clearly waiting for Optimus and Ironhide to see the footage themselves and tell her their verdict right away. Optimus didn't dissuade her.

With a couple of buttons, the message opened into a new screen, Grit's image being marginalized to the lower left corner of the screen to make room for this new one. The footage started sharply and fast, and though the camera was jerky and the humans excited voice over distracting, he gave the audience a good look at a hulking green robotic figure, towering over the trees behind him. Optimus frowned in recognition, and paused the video just to make sure.

"That appears to be Onslaught, leader of the Combaticons," he told Grit. "We didn't detect any other landings, so he must be without his team. But that would make no sense; they are a gestalt team, they do not take separation lightly."

"How bad is he by himself?" Grit asked.

"He's not the worst, but he's plenty dangerous all by himself." Ironhide answered. "And it looks like he's still carrying just as much firepower as he did before. He's smart enough, but not as dangerous as Starscream."

"What do you think he'll do next?"

"It's hard to say," Optimus admitted, hitting the play button again. "Onslaught never did anything outside of Megatrons orders or directives. It's hard to predict what he will do now without-"

The camera shifted to the other combatant, and for five full seconds all mental processes came to a screeching halt. The room was completely, utterly silent except for the muted explosions and gunfire from the video.

"Optimus?" Grit ventured, sounding slightly concerned. "Is something wrong?"

Optimus didn't hear her. He shot straight up out of his chair completely transfixed by what he was seeing, unable to believe this was real, because this was some sort of trick, a mistake, it wasn't – was it?

Ironhide look of shock morphed into a huge grin, and he let out a loud, bellowing laugh, slapping a hand on his unresponsive commander's shoulder. "See! I was right! I TOLD you she'd get here!"

"No," Optimus whispered in disbelief, almost drowned out by the sounds of battle still raging in the video. "No, it can't, it's a mistake, it can't actually her. There's no way it's actually her-"

"_I can always deal with Decepticons. Elita One knows no fear."_

Optimus legs promptly stopped working. He fell heavily back into his chair, said furniture creaking under the sudden demand, his optics completely frozen on the image. Ironhide laughed again, clapping Optimus on the shoulder in congratulations. Grit looked completely confused. "So, is this a good thing or a bad thing?" she finally asked.

"A good thing Grit," Ironhide said, grin wide enough to threaten to split his face in two. "A very, very good thing.

"Just tell you're bosses that the green one's the bad guy, and that the red one is an Autobot officer. If she's got humans with her, then it's probably for their own good. They're a frag of a lot safer with her than anywhere else."

"If you say so…" Grit said uncertainly, eyeing Optimus again. "Is he going to be alright?"

"Who, Prime? Just needs to get this through his processors. We'll get back to you." Ironhide reached over and disconnected the transmission, hanging up on the extremely confused Grit. The video had ended, and Optimus swiftly, almost desperately, rewound it to pause on Elita, gun up, expression fierce, looking devastatingly amazing in the shot. Ironhide leaned down slightly to speak, still grinning.

"So, you want to radio Jazz and Bee about this, or should I do that?"

Optimus stood up so fast his shoulder nearly slammed upwards into Ironhides chin. "You tell Jazz and Bumblebee about Elita One and Onslaught. I have to speak with Lennox. Maybe the military would be more willing to help if I addressed them myself."

Optimus stode the room quickly, a mech on a mission and Primus help anyone who tried to get in his way. Ironhide smirked, but it softened after a few seconds. Heh, of all the 'bots to make it to Earth, Elita was the very first. Who would have thought? Still, he was happy for his commander. Optimus had had to shoulder so many burdens over the last few millennia. It was good for him to finally get something back.

Ironhide absently stroked the armor covering his spark, his mind drifting to memories of blue armor and a mighty fighting spirit. If Elita was here now, how far behind was her SiC?

The door opened again, and Ironhide looked up in time to see a confused Ratchet coming in for his turn at the console.

"I just escaped from being plowed over by Prime," Ratchet said. "Any idea why?"

"You didn't step to the side?" Ironhide suggested cheekily. Ratchet gave him a dry look, until he noticed the video still playing on the screen.

Ratchet actually took a step back out the door in shock. "What the…Elita One??"

"The one and only," Ironhide said, and Ratchet broke out of his shock to shoot Ironhide an annoyed look for the awful pun.

"I was just about to let Jazz and Bumblebee know about this," the Topkick went on. "You mind telling Grit anything she needs to know about Elita and Onslaught while I do that?"

* * *

_"I'm just saying, Sector 7 sounded cool and mysterious, because you had no idea what their job was, plus nobody even knew they exist."_ Sam was trying to explain_. "RDA just sounds so…blah. Like, IRS, or something. Initials just aren't that cool. An acronym, sure, if it spells something cool. But initials…no, just no."_

"What about the FBI, or CIA?" Mikaela rebutted

_"That's different. Everyone knows who those guys are, and they've had, like, decades to make a reputation. The RDA doesn't have that."_

_"Maybe that's why you never hear any of them call it 'RDA,'"_ Bee suggested_. "Think about it, the agents never say 'RDA,' it's always 'Reconnaissance and Discretion Agency.' Sometimes, I think they're embarresed."_

At the moment, the quartet were on the highway, and while the day was winding down and the traffic was light, it was decided that Mikaela would ride with Jazz in front while Bumblebee hung back with Sam, so that nobody would freak out seeing a car driving itself. Mikaela had her hands on the wheel for the sake of appearances, something that was turning into more of a habit than a decision, and in the way most long car trips with few pit stops went they killed time with the age old art of conversation.

"The long version's a bit of a mouthful," Jazz was saying, "but I gotta admit, it does sound more dramatic like – hold on peoples, 'Hides pinging me from HQ. Gimme a minute to see what's up."

"Are you putting him on speaker?" Mikaela asked.

"Depends on what he's gotta say. I'll let ch'ya know."

_"Jazz here. Got any leads for me?"_

_"Not yet, but we're still looking. Someone bumped into the two new arrivals and filmed them both in a fight. The RDA got the tape and sent us a copy, so now we know who we're looking for."_

_"We've got positive ID's? Sweet! Who're they?_

_"One of them is Onslaught. No idea what he's doing here without the rest of his gestalt."_

_"Slag. 'Least he's alone. Since the two bots were fightin', I'm guessin' the other's an Autobot. Who is it?"_

Jazz could almost hear the smirk on the other end. _"You're not going to believe this."_

Mikaela waited patiently as Jazz conversed with Ironhide over their private line, guessing to herself what the Topkick wanted. Her musing came to a screeching halt when the entire car *jerked* upwards almost violently. Mikaela yelped as she fell back into her seat, and she would later suspect that if Jazz hadn't been in car mode he would have been jumping and dancing around with joy.

"Jazz?!" she yelped, starting to panic a little. "What the heck? What's wrong, what happened?"

_"Jazz, is everything alright?"_ Bee's voice sounded worried over the comm., and Mikaela had no doubt Sam was sharing in his concern.

"I'm better than alright!" Jazz practically sang. "We got positive ID's on both the 'bots. One's a Decepticon, but we already figured that. The other's an Autobot, and you're not gonna believe who it is!"

"Jazz…you, Ratchet, Ironhide, Bumblebee, and Optimus are the ONLY Autobots we know," Mikaela reminded him. "I mean, it's great that there's another Autobot on Earth, but I think you're vastly overestimating the shock value here."

Jazz still announced the name like he hadn't heard a word Mikaela said: "It's none other than the Commander of the Femme Division and Prime's sweetheart Elita One!"

Behind the silver coupe, the Camaro suddenly swerved a little in shock.

"_WHAAAT_?"

_"Optimus has a girlfriend??"_ This was from Sam, equally gobsmacked but for an entirely different (yet no less legitimate) reason.

"Sure is, and he sure does!" Jazz answered with a laugh in his voice. His utter glee was getting contagious, and while Mikaela didn't understand all that was going on (what's a femme?), she couldn't help but smile right along with him. Besides, this was GOOD news, and this Elita was someone very important to Optimus personally. How could she NOT be happy for the big guy?

"So does Ironhide know where either of them are?" Mikaela asked.

"Nope, they're still lookin', and so far none of my little sources haven't – waitaminute, hold on a minute..."

Jazz fell silent for several seconds, and Mikaela straightened a little in her seat at the sudden serious atmosphere. So once again, she was taken completely by surprise when the car, for the second time in less than a minute, did it's very best to jump for joy.

"Whoa! Ye-AH! All right YES! Thank you PRIMUS!"

"_Let me guess: more good news?"_ Sam asked dryly once they came down.

Jazz's voice was pure glee. "Boys and girls, I've got a bite!"

Behind the silver coupe, Sam gave the steering wheel a blank stare, silently asking for his robotic guardian to translate Jazze-ese into English. Unfortunately, Bee was just as clueless. Nobody said anything for nearly a minute.

"Before we left, I hacked into the US power grid and planted a little bug ta let me know 'bout big anomalies with no apparent cause," Jazz finally explained. "If there was ever a large mystery drain, the bug would note the time an' place and let me know right away."

"Wait, you did what?" Mikaela interrupted. "Does the government know you did that? They'll be freaked if they knew you could do that."

_"They'll never know unless Jazz wanted them to know,"_ Bee said quickly in Jazz's defense. _"What they don't know won't hurt them, right?"_

"That doesn't make it okay," Mikaela insisted, crossing her arms. "Seriously, you shouldn't make a habit of doing that. It'll make everyone think of what Frenzy did, and everyone who knows what really happened is already enough on edge."

"_Yeah, but these are extenuating circumstances."_ Sam said. "_I mean, it's not like anyone's getting hurt or that he's violating anyone's privacy."_

"You know that, I know that, but somewhere down the line someone might try to use stuff like this as ammunition against you guys, to slap regulations and restrictions on you," Mikaela insisted. "Besides, does Optimus know you did that?"

"You're all kinda missin' the real point here," Jazz said sulkily, sounding so much like a little kid Mikaela couldn't help but grin. "I planted that bug on the off chance that one of our not-so-mysterious-anymore friends would need ta refuel between now and later, and siphoning off already gathered energy would be the easiest way ta do it."

NOW it was starting to sink in.

"Wait, so you know *exactly* where one of these guys is RIGHT NOW!?" Mikaela exclaimed

"That I do, little lady!" Jazz said, perking up again now that his mad skillz were being appreciated properly. "Right now she or he is in Missouri, prob'bly headin' into Kanses. Which means we gotta book it before the trail gets too cold."

Mikaela already had her seatbelt on, but it tightened slightly and the seat leaned back a little, startling the girl, and was it her imagination, or did the cushioning just get softer?

"Ready Bee?"

_"Ready Jazz!"_

Somehow, the tinge of excitement in their mechanical friend's voices didn't bode well with Mikaela. But before she could comment, she (and Sam) became acutely aware of just how fast Jazz and Bumblebee could go, if they wanted.

With a sharp kick of speed Mikaela was pushed back into her seat, the cushion molding around her body and holding her safely and comfortably in place. Too bad they couldn't do anything about the stomach she left behind.

"Jazz!?" she exclaimed/squeaked, having lost her ability to speak in complete sentences.

"I did say we had ta book it, didn't I? Goin' this fast uses a lotta power, an' since Bee an' I only had a general idea of where ta go, it woulda been a waste of energy before now."

"Cops?!"

"I'm sending out a scrambling signal ahead of us ta cover Bee an' me. Ain't no speedometers gonna know how fast we're really goin'. Not," Jazz added with a chuckle, "that the cops would be able ta catch us even if they did."

"Speed?!"

"I don't think ya really wanna know."

Mikaela gripped the cloth of her jeans and eased her head right to watch the other cars, moving at 70 to 80 miles an hour, fall behind them as if they'd been perfectly still. *Just how fast ARE we going?* she wondered, then immediately decided that Jazz was right, she was happier not knowing.

* * *

_10:30, somewhere in Kansas that same evening._

Since camping out for the night wasn't an option, darkness found Elita driving down a mostly empty highway with a dead asleep Nolan in the back and a drowsy Aine behind the wheel, one hand up strictly for appearances sake. It was dark enough for no one to notice the "driver" was underage, but not late enough yet to not need a body in the seat.

Elita checked Nolan's body signs one more time, and everything checked out consistently with deep sleep. If they kept quiet, then this would be her best, maybe her only opportunity to speak to Aine in private.

"Aine? Are you truly alright?" she asked.

Aine jerked a little at her name, startled by the sudden intrusion of sound in the silence. But she recovered quickly and smiled. "What? What're you talking about?"

"At the library you seemed..off. Elevated heart rate, increased talk, and you never inquired into Nolan's well being after his emotional outburst.

Aine hesitated for a beat too long. "It's just the stress catching up on me, I guess. I mean, c'mon, I'm on the lam with a giant intergalactic robot, running away from another less-nice giant robot. Not that I want to quite or anything," she added hurriedly, "but, you know, it's a lot to take in, and the library was the first time I had a quiet moment to sit down and think about it, you know? So yeah, I was coming down from that when you and Nolan got back."

"If you do not feel comfortable in telling me the truth, you need not lie to me instead."

Aine felt her heart still. "What?"

"For one, your vitals fluctuate when you tell a lie, and I suspect you do not have much experience lying as you do in simply concealing. Aine, I know that whatever you are dealing with, it is not limited to what happened today with Onslaught or the other humans."

Aine didn't answer. Elita spoke again, her voice soft and gentle, like a warm caress. "Aine, do not misunderstand. I wish to help you, but I will not force you to confide in me if you do not desire to. I am not here to tell you what to do or how to live your life, and I will offer advice only if you ask of it. I will not pressure you into sharing all your secrets with me, but I will be here if you need someone to listen."

Aine tensed slightly at 'secrets,' and Elita could practically see the jumbled thoughts dancing around behind her eyes, her toes bouncing with repressed anxiety. The silence stretched on until the tension was nearly unbearable, but Elita patiently waited for Aine to be ready.

"Have…have you ever had a secret that, that you couldn't tell anyone?" She asked at last in a near whisper. Elita deliberated carefully before she answered.

"As a military officer, I have held many secrets I could not share with my soldiers. But on a personal basis, it has been my experience that most secrets will find their way out eventually, sometimes in the worst way possible. I also have learned that on occasion that which I had believed dire and best left in the dark was not nearly as detrimental as I had supposed."

"Well, what if it really is bad as you think it is?" Aine pressed. "It's not a secret you don't want to tell anyone, it's one you can't tell anyone. It's something that'll make everyone really upset, and really complicate things, but isn't something anyone can change. I mean, you can't do anything about it, and it'll only make you sad to learn about it, and it'll just make everything really complicated. Wouldn't it more loving to let the other people stay blissfully ignorant, and not upset the balance?"

_She speaks as if she carries the world on her shoulders,_ Elita thought, but corrected herself. _No, not "the" world, but "her" world._

"True, we all wish to treat those we care about in a loving, respectful manner, and to protect them as much we can." Elita said. "There is nothing wrong in that. However, perhaps you should consider what would want if the situation were reversed."

"What *I* would want? What do you mean by that?"

"Such a secret would be a heavy, painful burden for anyone to bear alone, especially for a young person. If Nolan were the only carrying the burden, would you rather he kept it to himself and protect your world, or that he shared his secret with you and let you share the load?"

Elita could see that new thought blooming in Aine's mind, something she likely had never considered before. She leaned back into her seat, expression pensive. Elita didn't prod her, but she knew Aine had new food for thought and would need a bit of time to digest it fully.

Now for the hard part…

"Aine, does this have anything to do with anxiety about returning to Richard?"

Aine started, clearly taken off guard by the question. "What? No, I'm not worried about that at all. I mean, that's not what I'm thinking about."

"You are not concerned about facing his anger again?" Elita asked, sincerely surprised.

Aine started to shake her head no, paused, and then gave a reluctant one-shoulder shrug instead. "I know he's going to be really mad and all, but he's still our dad. He's probably really worried about us by now."

"He was prepared to sacrifice you and Nolan to me in exchange for his own safety," Elita reminded her. "That does not warrant such devotion and loyalty."

Aine straightened, looking a little angry. "First of all, he was being held twenty feet in the air by an angry robot! He was terrified out of his mind, obviously he couldn't think straight. If you asked, I be couldn't even tell you his own *name*! I'm sure he regrets it by now."

"Your brother was frightened of me as well, yet he was prepared to engage me armed with nothing but a baseball bat because he sincerely believed I was a threat to _you_."

"Well, Dad's not Nolan, is he? And besides, he's family. He's our father! Family means you stay together and support each other, and Dad needs us with him. You only saw one side of him, but he used to be nice and, and funny, and kind, and did lots of things for us! He only got like, like what you saw after Mom was gone. It hit him so hard, he's had such a hard time getting over it, he, he started lashing out and changing because he doesn't know how else to deal with it. He's not nearly as bad if he's happy, and if Nolan and I stay with him, if we keep loving him and showing that we still respect him, then I'm sure he'll go back to the way he was before someday!"

Elita was shocked that Aine was willing to defend Richard's actions, and her first reaction was to try and reason Aine out of such an illogical position.

"I understand your wishes, and they are perfectly natural. He is your father, and I am not saying it is a sin to love him. But abusive personalities do not hit rock bottom and learn to turn their lives around. He has had five years to come to terms with your mother leaving, and yet he continues to "lash out" as you put it. That is not grief, that is a selfish person seeking control and power. So long as you comply with his whims, he has no motivation to change his behaviors, not unless something drastic happens…such as the loss of his children."

Aine crossed her arms. "Well, that's already happened, hasn't it? If you're so worried, then maybe this'll be the kick he needs to go back to his old self, like he was when Mom was around."

Elita remembered Nolan describing how their mother had acted as a buffer between Richard and the young children. Had Richard been as good a person and Aine believed she remembered him, such protection would not have been necessary.

"You still plan to return to him immediately. What if his behavior does not change even then? You would freely return to such a dangerous situation?"

The human girl made a frustrated sound in the back of her throat. "You just don't get it, do you? He's family, and family means sticking together through thick or thin, even when – scratch that, ESPECIALLY when one of us is having a hard time and needs support. Mom would have wanted us to stay a family. She wanted us to stay together, she never would've wanted us to split up!"

Aine threw her hands up in frustration. "Gaah, why am I explaining this to you? You guys don't even have kids and stuff, you depended on the Allspark for that!"

Elita internally flinched as the sharp, careless words dug deep and twisted in her spark, and it finally occurred to her that she had crossed a line with Aine. She only wanted to help the girl and her brother, but good intentions did not give her permission to speak so freely. How arrogant of her to assume that, with soft words and rational arguments, she could undo in a night what Richard had spent a lifetime cultivating!

Still, Elita couldn't let this last thing slide.

"The Allspark is the source of all Cybertronian life, but it was not the source of every life," Elita corrected gently. "As far as we know, Bumblebee was the last of the younglings, the last of the sparklings."

Aine blinked, anger diffusing into confusion. "'Youngling?' 'Sparkling?' Wait, you mean…"

"In human terms, it would be 'child' and 'infant,' if I understand correctly."

"But, back at the house, I thought you said-"

"Just because we are not capable of replenishing our numbers as swiftly as humans, or that we lack the capability to restore our former population ever again, does not mean we are unable to create individual lives as well. The Allspark could have given Megatron an army. We did not depend on it to give us families."

"So, you do have…wait, if Bumblebee's supposed to be the last, what happened to…"

In the blink of an eye, the brunette went from confused to horrified. She covered her mouth with one hand as she gasp in realization. "Oh no, no no no…oh Elita, I'm SO sorry, I didn't mean it like that! I'm so sorry, I'm so, so sorry, I wasn't thinking!"

"It is fine," Elita soothed, though the accusation from before still stung and rubbed raw old wounds and painful memories. "You did not know, and I am an alien to you. You cannot always assume where we are different and were we are…the same."

Aine still had her mouth covered, her expression beginning to twist in the oncoming tears of regret and shame at her callous assumption, and the tragedies she had unwittingly trampled on. She was trying so hard not to cry, but it was getting harder to hold it back. "I'm still sorry..." she whispered chokingly.

Aine let out a little gasp as her seat started to warm up and vibrate up and down her back, like a gentle caress. It was the closest to physical comfort Elita could provide like this. "You spoke in anger," the femme soothed. "I understand this. I apologize as well; I overstepped my bounds. I am not offended by what you said, so long as you do not forget what you have learned. We have both learned not to assume too much."

Aine wiped her eyes of the tears gathered there and started to relax, with a small, relieved smile. She finally relaxed, starting to feel a little better now that she knew Elita wasn't angry or hurt. Elita kept up the massage for another few seconds, and Aine rested her head back, her eyes fluttering open and closed, lulled by the warmth and the soothing vibrations melting all the tension from her body.

Before Aine could nod off completely, Elita asked "You said your mother wanted you, Nolan, and Richard to stay together. What did you mean by that?"

Aine shrugged, peeling her eyes open. "Pretty much what it sounded like. I don't remember a lot about her, but I know Mom would always talk about how family was so important, and how we had to support each other. She was really close to her family, I know that, so that was probably where she got it from. And since she's not around anymore, it's kinda my job now to do all the stuff she used to do."

"Who says that her duties were to become your duties?"

"Well, no one said so exactly. But I'm the only other girl, so it was sort of obvious, right? And it works. It's what Mom would have wanted, I think."

Actually, the O'Connell matriarch's verbal devotion to family values stank of hypocrisy to the Commander. This WAS the same woman who abandoned her own children to a man she knew was abusive and controlling, after all. Elita was having trouble reconciling that, with the woman Aine was speaking of so highly now.

"Forgive me if I am too forward, but I have difficulty understand how you can feel so strongly about your mother's lessons when she herself did not apply them. She left your family without a word, did she not?"

Aine lifted her head from the head rest and blinked owlishly. "What? Who told you that?"

In the interest of protecting Nolan's privacy as she had promised, Elita answered instead "Your mother was absent from your home, and she was a near taboo subject for yourself and Nolan. I could only deduce that she had left your family some time ago."

It was the truth. Elita had had her own suspicions of what had happened to the mother from the beginning, and Nolan had confirmed and clarified them.

But Aine was shaking her head. "I can see why you might think that, but you're a little off."

"Oh?" Elita said curiously. "How am I incorrect?"

Aine told her.

Elita felt like her cooling systems had malfunctioned, going into overdrive and flushing her energon lines with coolant, while everything else shutdown and went utterly silent and still, including her pump and her CPU.

The warmth and pleasant vibrations had abruptly stopped, and in the silence Aine grew concerned. "Elita? Elita, are you okay?" she asked worriedly, putting a hand on the dashboard.

"I…my apologies, I am not certain I heard you correctly," the femme said, a small, but blindingly obvious in its rarity, waver in her voice. "Would you please reiterate what you said?"

Aine rubbed her hand back and forth on the dashboard in a gesture of comfort and complied.

"I said, Mom never walked out or abandoned us. She actually died, five years ago."

* * *

**AN**: I said you'd learn something new. I never said it'd be anything good.

Any and all reviews will be loved and cherished, whether it's to say "Great story!", "You suck!", or "grapes are sexy." I'm not picky. :)


	10. Ch 10 Before the Dawn

**AN**: I have no excuse. Except that school has been keeping me busy, and that I've been trying to prioritize. Never fear, for even if I have to set this story aside for a time, rest assured that I *will* finish it. I'm having too much fun with it. :) Good news is, this chapter was supposed to be a LOT longer, until I realized it getting *too* long. My chapters have been getting progressively longer, true, but this was getting ridiculous. What this means is, chapter 11 is already partially written and the rest outlined in detail, so you won't have to wait nearly as long. :D

On an unrelated note, I want to give a shout out to **Lasgalendil **(say that five times fast ^_^), for her long and insightful reviews. She's a writer as well, and while she's not of the Transformers fandom (mores the pity), she writes some wonderful poetry and one shots for "Pirates of the Caribbean" and "Lord of the Rings." But she's severely under-appreciated, so if any of you guys also like those fandoms, I highly recommend you check her stuff out if you're in the mood for a quick but satisfying read. Not to mention, if you review for her, she'll probably return the favor and review for you. :) We'll convert her to Transformers yet! *laughs*

But enough about me…on with the story!

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Transformers, characters like Elita would have gotten the love and attention they deserve.

* * *

Ch. 10 – Before the Dawn

*12:37 am, Undisclosed Location*

Sometimes, Simmons wondered what it would be like to have a normal job, with regular hours that didn't change from day to day and let him go home after eight or twelve hours on duty. He fantasized about being able to have a leisurely morning over a newspaper and a cup of coffee because his day always began at the same time every day, of knowing that he'd always (well, at least mostly) have actual weekends to do what he wanted, and be able to leave his work at work after five.

Granted, he could have gone home hours ago, but in a situation like this where updates were sporadic at best, going home would have meant risking missing vital info as soon as it came in, or the dramatic change of events that could happen in a blink. Getting a call after the fact, no matter how timely, just wasn't the same. Not to mention it wasted precious time it would've taken for Simmons to dress and get back to HQ. Say what you want about the man, but Simmons prided himself in being able to stay in the loop, if not a step or two ahead of the game. It's why he stayed on and took the sideways move, even if it meant the occasional all-nighter and a peanut paycheck.

Suffice to say, those moments where he couldn't help but wonder the "what if's" tended to be few and far between. When they did, it was usually at an unholy hour (like any time after midnight), after a stomach churning dinner/snack (like the pizza of questionable origin and content), in the middle of reading over a dozen different reports from a dozen different agents and subordinates and all told the same story (like "we don't have a clue what's going on now either"), until his eyes were so buzzed he had to read over the same paragraph three times just to get what it was saying.

Sometimes, he really hated his job.

There was a knock on the office door, and Simmons was briefly torn between annoyance – because the hour and work demanded grumpiness – and wanting to sing 'Hallelujah' at the promise of a break.

_And as soon as I think that, Duane's gonna come in and tell me that NBE-D-6, aka "Onslaught", is currently terrorizing Toronto_. he thought sarcastically. Aloud he said "Come in," as he closed the folder he'd been reading.

The door opened to reveal Grit, yet another border-line workaholic of the RDA. She could have gone home a long time too, and if her husband hadn't been in Germany on a business trip, she probably would have. In her hands she held a stack of paper, and Simmons could instantly guess what it was.

"The transcript of your interview with the witness, I take it?"

A nod as she passed it to him over his cluttered desk. "Sir, wouldn't it have been easier to just have the transcript e-mailed?"

Simmons flashed to the hundred or so neglected e-mails in his inbox. "Easier? Sure, so long as I don't have to read it sometime in the next three months."

The older man looked over the front page of the summery before dropping the packet on the unofficial but disturbingly high 'to do/read later' pile. "How 'bout you give me the gist of it?"

"Sir?"

"The gist, the nutshell, key points, impressions, and all that."

Grit looked at Simmons a bit uncertainly. "With all due respect, isn't that why you had me write the summery?"

"Yep, but I don't feel like reading it. I'd rather have you sum it up yourself so long as you're here."

The corner of Grits eye twitched, and Simmons had to repress a smirk. If there was one thing Grit hated with every fiber of her being, it was wasting even a minute of her time on pointless and/or useless tasks and busy works. She only had to write a one page summary, but Simmons had already been hearing stories about their witness, and he wasn't going to be winning any prizes for congeniality. That 'simple' summery was coming out of a one and a half hour interview that should have only taken fifteen minutes tops, trying to glean every piece of relevant information from a man who didn't want to give it, combing through the transcript for details and unspoken truths. The whole endeavor was probably difficult, time consuming, migraine inducing – and now, completely unnecessary. Grit had never been so close to throttling her own boss.

_Take a number kid_, Simmons thought humorously.

Fortunately for him, Grit decided that extreme frustration didn't warrant homicide just yet, and instead took a seat before his desk with an air of resignation.

"The witness continues to say the NBE he met was hostile and aggressive, destroying his home and taking his children with no provocation and giving no reason. Physically, he described the NBE as being red and silver with blue eyes, and a 'spiky head'." Grit demonstrated to him, as the witness probably had to her, by placing her wrists at her ears and fanning her fingers out and a little back, keeping her thumbs folded in. It looked a little like fins, or maybe wings.

Or antlers. But Simmons was pretty sure that wasn't the intended effect.

"From what the Autobots have given us, our witness's NBE fits the physical specs of NBE-A-6, but with a psychological profile better matching NBE-D-6," Simmons said, lacing his hands behind his head and leaning back. "Going on a limb here, but I'm pretty sure the bad guy didn't suddenly become a master of disguise."

"Not to mention there wouldn't be much point, even if he was," Grit agreed. She was about to say more, but hesitated. Simmons raised a brow.

"Grit, if you're going to say something, spit it out already. I hate suspense."

Grit sucked her lips against her teeth, a tic she had when her nerves were slowly being grated on. But, she did as she was told.

"The witness has been lying to us from the start. That much became obvious once we had the Autobots story and profiles to compare with."

"You're right that someone's lying here." Simmons conceded. "What makes you so sure it's the witness?"

Grit started and stared at Simmons like a foot just sprouted out of his head. "What?"

"Not that I can really fault you for thinking that," Simmons went on as if unaware of Grit's reaction. "Let's face it: our job boils down to covering for the NBE's who don't want to blow us to kingdom come. We're _paid_ to take their side…kinda like lawyers, only with peanut pay," he added thoughtfully.

"That's not it!" Grit sputtered indignantly. "That has nothing to do with it!"

"Oh?" Simmons asked innocently. "So why are you so sure the witness is the liar here?"

Grit stared back for a few seconds before averting her eyes, hesitating again.

Simmons rolled his own eyes. Discipline and respect for authority was all well and good – and Lord knew Simmons was more than happy to have some – but you could always have too much of a good thing.

Simmons lowered his arms as he released a long suffering sigh. "Alright Grit, permission to speak freely, candidly, cross my heart and hope to die; what are your real impressions of the guy?"

Grit resisted a few seconds longer, her real thoughts battling against the dam of training, sense, and suspicion that this was an elaborate test.

The dam lasted a good three seconds.

"Richard O'Connell is an egotistical, closed minded misogynist with his head so far up his own ass nothing short of dynamite and a crowbar is going to get him out again – and he LIKES it there!"

_NOW we're getting somewhere_, Simmons thought in self-satisfaction. This was why Simmons liked hearing it straight from the horse's mouth instead of reading it in a dull summary – no one here ever recorded the best stuff.

"Pretty strong opinion there Grit," he commented lightly. "You sure you're being fair to the guy?"

Grit gave her boss a flat look. Without breaking eye contact, she reached over with her right hand to pick up the transcript from where Simmons had dropped it, and reached over with her left to grab a red pen from the pencil holder. She brought both back to her lap, and with a flick of the wrist flipped the packet to the third page. She dropped her gaze (to Simmons slight relief, because it was getting unnerving – didn't she need to blink?) and quickly circled a couple of passages. She repeated this process over the next several pages. When she was done, she silently handed the transcript back to Simmons, the flat expression never wavering.

Curious, he took it from her and read the first circled section:

_O'CONNELL: Look, I give you props for trying, but you're trying to play ball in the big boy's court, and I'd really hate to see such a pretty girl get her feelings hurt because she can't keep up. So you yourself a favor, and stop trying to over reach so much. While you're at it, send in one of the real agents already."_

Simmons brow shot up. "Is this guy for real?"

"The worst part is, that was when he was trying to be _nice_." Grit said. "Unfortunately, most of the interview went like that. I was in there for almost ninety minutes, and getting anything useful out of him was like pulling teeth from a pissed-off Rottweiler."

Simmons flipped over to the other sections Grit had marked. She wasn't exaggerating. It was like the witness was going through stages: 1) try to be nice to get his way, 2) getting more belligerent and trying to push Grit into doing what he wanted, and 3) outright telling her what she ought to do, never mind he was in no position to order anything.

"What about the incentives? Did you mention that?" he asked.

Contrary to pop culture and popular belief, the government couldn't actually make innocent people disappear or discredit them so fully their lives are ruined all willy-nilly, just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Even Sector Seven, which didn't exist and therefore had a great deal more free range, had been reluctant to employ such methods except under absolute necessity. Moral issues aside, it was just plain easier and overall more reliable to get consensual silence. Hence, the creation of the incentives.

The incentives were a little trick Sector Seven had employed with certain witnesses, and had been carried over to the Division. They called it "Really Really Good or Really Really Bad," and it was exactly what it sounded like. Well, actually, it had a more official name, but it wasn't as descriptive or fun to say and Simmons could never remember it anyway.

Take the college kids with the video. The picked Really Really Good, and now they were going to be graduating with no debts whatsoever, a nice nest egg to get them started, and opportunities at internships other students would have to jump through 14 hoops just to have a fighting chance at. They'd even pay for graduate school if any of them so desired. He was pretty sure the mousy girl had decided right then and there to go to medical school because of this.

But, if any of them ever breathed a word of what they saw, and by default, chose Really Really Bad…

"I mentioned it about halfway through," Grit was saying, and she could not hide the hint of distaste. Simmons looked up at her over the top of the packet.

"Didn't work?"

"Not exactly…"

"_If you cooperate with us, and sign a non-disclosure saying you will never breathe a word of what you have seen and what you have experienced to another living soul, you will be compensated for your time and assistance."_

_O'Connell leveled Grit a look. "What kind of compensation?"_

"_Off the bat, we'll take care of all reparations to your house and property, and reimburse you for any pay lost," Grit said. "Beyond that, it is not my position to promise."_

"_You've done this before, right? To get people to keep quiet. What's a ball park figure of what I'll get?"_

_Grit didn't even blink. "Three times your current annual salary."_

_She did not react, but Grit was secretly pleased to see the utterly bug-eyed look O'Connell gave her. _

_The look passed, and he narrowed his eyes thoughtfully_

_"My kids are witnesses too, and they have a hell of a lot more to say. Do they get the same deal?"_

"_Since you're son is turning eighteen in a few weeks, he'll probably be offered a scholarship to the school of his choice. Beyond that, I can't promise anything. As for your daughter, I honestly can't say. We've never had a witness as young as her before. She'll probably get a trust in her name that she'll be able to collect when she turns eighteen herself."_

_O'Connell gave Grit an odd look. "That much money to a couple of kids who don't even get an allowance? That's not an incentive, that's coercion."_

"_Call it what you want. So long as everyone gets their due, does it really matter?"_

"_No, I guess not," he conceded. "But can't you just put my daughter's money in an account in my name so I can invest it for her?"_

"_That's not for me to say."Grit said smoothly. But, she didn't believe for a second that, if this man had access to the girls Incentive money, he'd only invest it and keep it safe for her. Heck, she doubted the poor girl would ever see a dime of it, if this man was put in charge of it. "__In any case, all we ask in return is your full cooperation now and your silence afterwards."_

"_Why didn't you mention the incentive thing in the first place?"_

_Grit felt a little uncomfortable here. As much of a jerk O'Connell had been to her, he was still a parent. "A few times before, we have had witnesses who have had loved ones in…compromising positions," she hedged. "When we offered the Incentive up front, they got extremely upset and offended. They thought we were more concerned with buying them off that assuring the safety and well being of their loved one, or that we were so heartless that we thought we'd need to incite them to help. We will do everything in our power to bring your children back safely and quickly. This is just for the fallout."_

"Does he know about the video?" Simmons asked.

Grit shook her head. "He didn't need to know. He also doesn't know about the other NBE's, or that the reason I was speaking to him at all was because of discrepancies in his account."

"Good call."

_O'Connell leaned forward, elbows on the table separating the man from the agent, and he looked at her square in the eye in all seriousness. Grit leaned forward a little too, thinking that, maybe, finally, he was going to start being more forthcoming._

"_You're right; Nolan's almost a legal adult. But he still has the rest of his senior year, and he'll be living in my house during that time. Plus, Aine's just a little girl, and you know how girls like to talk. I'd be sure to keep an eye on her, but she's got another four years before she's on her own. That's a long time to be vigilant. But, for a little extra, I could be extra vigilant, make sure she keeps quiet for you guys."_

_Grit reared back slightly as shock flitted across her face. "Are you honestly trying to blackmail the US government?"_

"_Of course not," O'Connell said, waving off Grits concern. "But it's a reality. Girls have a harder time keeping secrets. If they didn't, they wouldn't be so infamous for being gossipers."_

"_And your daughter is a gossip?"_

"_She's a fourteen year old girl. If she isn't yet, she's going to be soon. With a little extra money, I could keep her close at hand, make sure she never spills, even take extra precautions maybe."_

_O'Connell grinned. "Of course, this all depends on how much this secrecy is worth to you guys. It's not like your bosses are going to lock up a little girl for a little slip."_

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but as far as this guy knows, his kids are still being held by a dangerous, unknown creature."

"Yes."

"We haven't told him about where we think they are, who they're with, what's going on, or even if we know if they're still alive."

"Well, I've been optimistic about finding them safe when I speak of him, but I haven't given him anything concrete."

"But in spite of all that, the guy still tries to spin this to his financial advantage, even if it means delaying important information that, as far as he's been lead to believe, could help his kids?"

"That's right."

"You're kidding."

"Page twelve, third paragraph."

Flip, flip, flip. "…Damn."

_Grit leaned forward against the table and matched O'Connell's brown eyes with her own icy blue ones._

"_I cannot promise an exact number for the Incentive, but I can tell you that it is more than generous and non-negotiable. If you don't like it, there are alternatives."_

_O'Connell snorted. "You're not scaring me, Ms. USA. What're you going to do, bat your eyes and say 'pretty please?' You can't do anything to me, I've got rights."_

"_Not in this building you don't."_

_O'Connell stared at her for a few seconds as it sunk in. He looked torn between anger and a little fear. "Are you threatening me?" he said, trying to make it a growl._

_Grit allowed a small smirk. "That would be unethical. I am merely giving you…advance warning of what could happen if you 'encouraged' your daughter to 'speak too freely' of her experiences these last few days."_

"_You'd lock up a little kid in this place?" O'Connell exclaimed in disbelief. _

Okay, seriously, enough with the 'little kid' thing, _Grit thought irritably. _She's fourteen years old, for goodness sakes!

"_Of course not," Grit soothed. "She's a minor. The full fault wouldn't lie with __her__."_

_Grit stressed the last two words as she looked hard at O'Connell. The older man's eyes lit up as he finally understood that, not only was the risk too great if he tried to pursue this, but that he could not pass off all the risk and still reap all the reward._

"Wish I could've seen the look on his face," Simmons chuckled.

"It was pretty good." Girt admitted with a little grin. She sobered quickly. "After that, he was a lot more cooperative. Not very useful in the end, but cooperative.

"His story was mostly the same, but he said he remembered more details. Suddenly this NBE is a lot bigger, a lot scarier, and more creative in its threats."

"Embellishment?"

"Most likely. As for the kidnapping itself, he still attests that they were sitting to dinner when the NBE's hand smashed through the glass door and grabbed him. Once he was securely on the roof it took the kids screaming and threatened to kill O'Connell if he tried to tell 'his government or military forces,' and ran off into the woods with kids in hand."

"Nothing about the blood we found by the stairs?"

"He never brought it up himself, no. I had to ask him about it myself. For a split second he looked like a deer in the headlight, as if he had been caught red handed doing something. I'm certain he knew what I was talking about, but didn't want to talk about it.

"At first, he insisted he had no idea what I was talking about. When I told him the blood wasn't much more than an hour old, and thus corresponded perfectly with the time that he alleged the attack happened, he suddenly remembered that the girl had been knocked down by the NBE when it grabbed him. When I told him the blood was by the stairs, he changed it *again* and said the girl had tried to run and hide, and the NBE must've hurt her when she tried to hide by the stairs."

"So suddenly the NBE has extending arms that can stretch over the twenty feet from the patio door to the stairs?" Simmons muttered.

"O'Connell never gave a satisfactory answer for the blood by the stairs." Grit said.

True, it had only been a few drops, hardly enough to indicate life threatening injuries, but at a crime scene there was no such thing as an irrelevant detail. Especially if the crime scene involved an NBE that never bothered to phone into say "Hey, guess what: I'm one of the good guys!"

"Whatever you're beliefs about that are, unless you get testimony or hard evidence to back you up, all you've got are assumptions," Simmons warned. "Besides, the O'Connell family dynamics have nothing to do with us or our case."

Grit straightened marginally. "Sir, I don't think this is something we should ignore," she said slowly.

"What makes you so sure there's anything at all?" Simmons countered. "Just because the witness doesn't give a rat's ass about what you say doesn't mean it transfers to his family life. If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, then you're going to need better evidence than the fact that he's an asshole."

"He tried to use his own children as bargaining chips! He was going to use them to blackmail us! And if I'm to be completely honest, the more I talk to him the more certain I am those kids with the NBE willingly, especially if it was NBE-A-6 as all OUR evidence is pointing towards."

"Why?"

"Frankly, if I was that guys daughter, I probably would've thrown myself at the NBE's feet and _begged_ her to take me, just to get away from the guy!"

Simmons said, nothing, turning his chair so that he was perpendicular to Grit and scanning the transcript and appearing for the entire world that he forgot Grit was even there. The minutes ticked slowly by, and as the silence stretched Grit was beginning to wonder if she had just crossed some invisible line she never knew existed, or if ignoring people was Simmons way of saying 'you're dismissed, leave me alone now.' Just as Grit was about to say something, her boss spoke up again, not looking up from his reading.

"You're probably not going to drop this, are you?"

"Probably not." She admitted candidly.

"But you know that I can't order you or assign anyone to look into this. We're the Reconnaissance and Discretion Agency, our job is to keep Uncle Sams biggest secret a secret, not to play social worker."

"…Yes sir."

Simmons dropped the transcript back on the 'to read later' pile and picked up a light brown folder with the same hand, and Grit briefly caught sight of the tab that read "Witness Folder".

"You're been on duty for how long now today?" Simmons asked casually as he flipped through the loose pages, still facing away from her.

Grit started slighted at sudden change in topic. "Um, since eight this morning."

"Take tomorrow off. Take the next two days off it you want."

Grit's head reared back and she stared owlishly at her boss. She felt like she had just gotten punched. Was Simmons getting rid of her because he didn't want to hear her press this issue? "What?" she asked intelligently, torn between shock, a little hurt, confusion, and anger.

"You heard me Grit," Simmons said lightly. "You need a break; you've been working too hard. Call it a health leave if you want, it'll give you a chance to do whatever you want for a day or two."

Grits hands clenched in her lap. She knew a brush off when she heard it, and if this smug little freak who called himself her superior thought that he could –

"But if you happen to be in the Rochester area, well, I hear they have some nice facilities and such, maybe you can take the chance to scout there for a place for your aging grandfather."

Grit's mind rant came to a screeching halt. _Huh? What grandfather?_

"Rochester?" Grit repeated.

"I heard it's quite nice by the lake. And since you'll be on a mini-vacation, you'd be free to do whatever you want. Maybe learn a few new things if you were so inclined." Simmons stretched his arm and dropped the folder on the pile, right on top of the transcript but halfway over the edge. The extra weight unbalanced the pile and it started to tilt, and Grit automatically reached over to grab the file before it could fall and straightened the pile with her other hand.

When Grit realized what she was holding in her hands, and replayed what her superior had been saying, she stared at Simmons for a few seconds before a slow smile spread across her face. "That sounds quite appealing. I just might take you up on that suggestion."

"I figured. Just don't do anything illegal on your break. I hate the paperwork. Now get out of here and go home already."

Grit stood, folder in hand, and started to leave the office, Simmons not once looking her way and seeing her walk out with the folder. She put her hand on the knob, but looked back at Simmons.

"You know, I had an old friend in Rochester a few years ago," Grit said in a conversational tone. "She married and had two children, but we lost her about five years ago. I would like to know what happened, but gosh darn it, I can't get a hold of the husband or the kids."

"Really? Fancy that."

"Any suggestions as to where I should look next?"

"Start with police records; see if anyone will be willing to talk to you about her, or if anyone had ever placed calls about a disturbance. Check the hospitals too, and the shelters. Go as far back as you can, and don't just go with the biggest hospitals or clinics. I think you told me once that your friend was quite a klutz, and she didn't like going to the same hospital and risk seeing the same doctor all the time because she thought it was embarrassing."

Grit nodded. "Good idea."

"Try the kid's names too, or at least the girls. The missus might've tried a false name once or twice to avoid the embarrassment, or maybe Nolan or Aye-nee got a little klutzy too."

"Awn-yeh," Grit corrected automatically.

Simmons half looked at her. "What?"

"It's pronounced Awn-yeh. Uh, her husband explained to me once that her family has a tradition of giving their daughters Irish names that haven't been absorbed into American mainstream, like Caitlyn. Something about remembering their roots."

"That explains the mom's name," Simmons muttered. "Did he mention how the hell you're supposed to pronounce that too?"

Grit told him.

Simmons gave her a flat look. "Have you seen how they spell her name?"

"I have."

"There are no 'v's' in there."

"No sir."

"There are no 'i's' either, and while it does have an 'e', it's not where should be to make any sense."

"No sir."

"In fact, her name is an unholy collection of random constenants and vowels with no purpose except to screw up the spelling."

"It's a traditional Irish spelling. I heard it's grown quite popular in recent years."

"Go home already."

* * *

*5:27 am, a Maverick near the Kansas-Missouri border*

Mikaela was glad to help the Autobots; she really was, especially with something as important as this. She was thrilled to be doing something useful now, since she and same hadn't yet been called one to do anything yet. While Jazz and Bee seemed glad to have them along anyway, she couldn't shake the feeling that they were more dead weight than potential asset. So yes, it pleased her that she could do something for them now, like speaking to the cashiers of 24-hour stores and gas stations that made up their potential witnesses, that they couldn't do themselves.

While Elita was, for whatever reason, missing her transponder signals and codes and therefore wouldn't show up on most conventional scanners (and from the way the bots described it, it was like missing a piece of your _head_), there was no way she'd be able to hide her radiation trail, the unique energy and residue left behind by the sustained presence of energon. Hopefully, she would have left enough of a footprint to point them down the path she took. When Sam had asked, with a touch of worry, if this radiation was dangerous to organics, specifically humans, Bee and Jazz jumped to assure him that the level of radiation that escaped the layers of metal, armor, and insulation that made up the Cybertronian body was so marginal it would take _decades_ of constant, round-the-clock exposure before there was any cellular damage. And by 'constant,' Sam would have to sleep in Bee's cab every night for the rest of his life. Exposure to spilt energon was a little trickier, but as long as they never got any on their skins (not that they'd want to anyway – apparently it was quite corrosive to organics) they were good.

However, for the sake of Sam being allowed within a hundred feet of Bumblebee or any other Autobots between now and after college, it was unanimously agreed that Judy and Ron didn't need to know about this.

In any case, because of how little residue there probably was, Jazz was going to have to go over the area with a fine tooth comb before weather and human activity could wipe it away. Bee mentioned how it was too bad Hound wasn't there, because apparently he was an Autobot who specialized in tracking other 'bots and 'cons through their energy trails. Bee had said, and quote, "Hound could sniff out a Decepticon from twenty kliks away in the pouring rain upwind, if he felt like it." While Mikaela had doubts about that, it was still pretty impressive.

But, that was why she and Sam were scoping out the area now. This was their best lead and they were going to have to take anything they could get. Bee had just dropped her off here and went off to drop Sam off at another potential place to check out. With Elita holding two humans, it was a safe bet they'd have to stop for food and bathroom breaks from time to time. Jazz was "sniffing around" the area where the energy drain occurred, a power plant not too far from where Mikaela was now. While Jazz did that, she, Sam, and Bee were scoping out the closest small stores to see if anyone had seen the two kids last night. It was a bit of a long shot, but they couldn't afford to leave any stone unturned. Who knows, they might be able to at least see video footage and get a clue as to the state of the kids or where they were heading next.

But did it have to be at the unholy hour of five-freaking-thirty in the MORNING?!

_When I get home, I'm crawling into my mice comfy bed with its pillows and comforters for a week_, Mikaela promised herself as she walked up to the Maverick, stretching her back and nursing a sore muscle. True to the bot's word, they had hoofed at warped speed and hadn't stopped until it was absolutely necessary, even going through the night…again. Mikaela's back was never going to be the same after this, she just knew it.

_Happy face happy face happy face, nobody likes talking to a grumpy girl,_ Mikaela told herself as she swung the glass door open, and with what felt like Herculean effort she plastered on the more sincere smile she could manage as she spotted the young cashier, a skinny guy of indiscernible age with a mop of curly brown hair on his head, reading a magazine and looking utterly bored and rather pasty under the unforgiving florescent light.

Mikaela stood in front of him for several seconds, waiting to be noticed. She shifted on her feet, coughed daintily, cleared her throat, moved her purse, cleared her throat again a little louder, and still the guy wasn't paying attention to her.

Ah screw it.

**"Excuse me!"**

The guy started so bad his elbow slipped off the counter and he nearly fell to the floor. He needed another double take when he spotted the blue eyed girl smiling beatifically down at him. Now that the guy was standing straight, the girl could see the nametag proudly proclaiming the guy as being "Jeff."

"HI! Morning! Sorry, didn't see you there, welcome to Starbucks MAVERICK!! Welcome to Maverick can I help you please?"

Mikaela had to recoil slightly from the explosion of energy from the formal pile of teenage apathy, but experience allowed her to recover rapidly and she flashed him a sweet smile without missing a beat. Jeff tried to smile back, but it came across as looking like there was a spider crawling up his pants and he was trying not to let it show.

"Hi Jeff, thanks. Actually, a couple of my friends were in the area last night, a guy about this tall," she held her hand flat a few inches above her head, "and his little sister, both with brown hair and eyes. Did you see them, by any chance?"

Jeff frowned in thought, started to shake his head, but his eyes lit up in remembrance. "Maybe. Did the girl have her hair in pigtails?"

"Yes! Yes she did!" Mikaela exclaimed happily (and Jeff looked ridiculously pleased with himself now). "Nolan said he was in a Maverick last night, but he couldn't remember which one. So they were here last night?"

"Saw them sitting together on the curb I was coming in for my shift, and they got picked up pretty soon after that. You looking for them?"

"Actually, sometime last night Nolan lost his cell phone, but he doesn't remember when or where. A bunch of us are helping him retrace his steps, so that's why I'm here now."

Jeff looked confused. "You're doing this at five thirty in the morning?"

"We're doing a group summer trip, and he promised his parents he'd be home by noon today. Plus, he's already lost three phones, and if he makes it four his dad is going to kill him."

Jeff nodded in sympathy and understanding. "That sucks. Wish I could help, but I haven't seen a cell phone anywhere. If he dropped it here, someone must've already taken it."

"Bummer. Hey, out of curiosity, how did they look when you saw them? I mean, did they seem calm and happy, or did they seem more nervous and anxious?"

Jeff shrugged. "Neither really. They didn't look upset or anything, they were just really quiet, you know? The guy had his arm around the girl's shoulders, so my first thought was that she was his girlfriend. It was dark, so I couldn't tell they were related really," Jeff added hastily. "But they seemed okay, just really…calm I guess. Like they were just hanging out, waiting for their ride."

Mikaela nodded as she listened, then perked up as if she suddenly had an idea. "The ride! You said you saw who picked them up? Could you describe them for me? Maybe Nolan dropped his phone in their car."

"Never saw the driver, but I definitely remember the car." And from the faraway look that came over his eyes, Mikaela guessed he was going to need a napkin to wipe up the drool in a minute if he didn't come back to Earth soon. She coughed a little to encourage him to come back faster, and Jeff snapped back to the present.

"What? Oh, um, right, the car. Not sure what kind it was, I'm not a car guy really, but it _looked_ like…like the love child between a sports car and a limo. Pretty sweet looking really, dark red with tinted windows. Weird license plate though, kind of snobby."

"Why, what did it say?"

"'Elite 1.'"

Mikaela couldn't hold back a laugh. If there was any doubt this was their femme, there wasn't any more. "That sounds like Eliza. She's not snobby; she just has a weird sense of humor. Did you see which way they went?"

"No, sorry – wait, Nolan doesn't remember who his ride was or where he went?"

"More like Nolan can't remember the order of events of last night. And, he forgot to tell me who picked him up and I can't call him - no cell phone, remember?" Mikaela pulled out her cell phone and flipped it open. "But I CAN call Eliza. Thanks for everything, you've been a great help."

"Hey no sweat, glad I could help." Jeff said as Mikaela started walking for the door, already dialing her phone. "Hey, can I get your-"

The door swung shut behind Mikaela.

Just as Mikaela was about to hit 'send' and call Jazz, the phone started ringing – and Mikaela was quite familiar with the number that popped up.

"Speak of the devil and here he comes," she muttered as she answered. "Jazz? What's up?"

_"Hey Mickey, you still with Sam and Bee?"_

"No, I'm at the Maverick, and I think they're still at the 7-11. They've been here by the way, Nolan and Aine I mean, and the guy got a look at Elita when she picked them up. We've finally got a description of Elita's alt mode. Nolan and Aine sound like they're fine too, not so much as a scratch. What about you?"

_"Well, I know Elita was here, but I couldn't get enough to peg a trail."_ Jazz said, voice neutral but with what Mikaela was learning to recognize as a trace of disappointment. Before Mikaela could say anything, Jazz cut it again with more energy. _"BUT! I have even better news. Care to guess?"_

Mikaela's brow furrowed in thought, but after only a second or two she recalled the last time Jazz was happy and why. "You've got another bite?!"

_"Congratulations, you got it in one!"_ Jazz cheered. _"Thanks for playing; your fabulous prize is a chance to ride with the coolest mech this side of the galaxy with the sweetest wheels North America has to offer!"_

"Oh, so Bee's picking me up instead then?" Mikaela asked innocently.

_"Hardy har har. I see you now smarty pants, be there in a sec."_

"Right Jazz." Mikaela closed her phone with a grin just as a silver Pontiac solstice slid up to the curb. The passenger side popped open for her, and Mikaela slid in. She glanced back through the store doors, and she had just enough time to catch the look on Jeff's face before the door closed.

* * *

*Kansas, 6:27 am*

The morning was cool and peaceful, with only the occasional sounds of nature being carried far and wide by the gentle breeze. The grass was long and flowing, waving to and fro like kelp in the tide and obscuring the flat road a few hundred yards in the distance. The rising sun was just peeking up over the horizon, painting the sky with luxurious reds and gold that dimmed into the royal blues and purples of the fading night. Were it not for the power lines jagging across the plain, it would be easy to forget there was such thing as civilization in this corner of the world. Yet even the artificial power lines were softened by the dozens of small birds using the black cables as a resting place, grooming and chatting among themselves like old friends and long time neighbors talking about the weather, the last game, or the giant robot that had been standing stock still at one of the poles for the last hour.

Elita was currently in root mode, and from her wrist she had pulled out a cable that she inserted into the power box at the top of her chosen power pole. The cable was usually used to interface with certain advanced computer systems or, by those so inclined, high level hacking or data gathering, or even communication between those unable to vocalize. But with a little improvisation, it worked fine in siphoning off electricity from the power lines, albeit slowly. If she tried to take too much too fast she'd risk overloading the box and forcing it to either shut down or explode. Aside from obvious safety issues, more importantly Elita didn't want to risk denying a community its power for an indeterminate amount of time just because she was impatient. Hence, the long wait.

The wait was part of the reason why the open plane was so…well, "ideal" would be too strong a word. It still had its risks, because as soon as Elita saw a coming car, the car would be able to see her as well.

On the other hand, the open plain also meant Onslaught wouldn't be able to sneak up on them again, and there was nowhere for him to hide and wait in ambush.

It didn't take a great deal of consideration to decide which would be the greater danger.

For the fifth time, Elita turned her head to see the two young humans in the grass about a hundred feet away from her. As with the first four times, Nolan was still standing, arms crossed and gazing up and down the road like a lone sentinel, as if he believed he would be able to give Elita the advance warning she would need if he kept an eye out, never mind his range of vision was about the same as Elita's, if that much. At his feet, Elita could just make out the lump that was Aine, curled up and almost completely hidden by the long grass, using her backpack as a pillow and fast asleep. When they had stopped so that Elita could fill up her reserves some more, Nolan had roused as best he could because he wanted to be awake and alert "just in case." Aine, on the other hand, was operating on only a handful of hours of sleep and could barely even string together a proper sentence. Elita had to carry the poor girl to the spot where she was now, and as soon as Elita had set her down Aine had trudged to where Nolan was standing, dropped her backpack on the ground, curled up and went straight back to sleep, muttering something about a monkey that owed her money.

Elita gave a fond smile, but it faded as she remembered what she and Aine had talked about the previous night…

"_I said, Mom never walked out or abandoned us. She actually died, five years ago."_

_Yes, Elita had heard her the first time, and even now it didn't feel real. The femme felt as though her mind was being stretch taunt like a rubber band, and all she could hear was a buzzing sound in her head, like a small insect had gotten trapped in there and it was drowning out all other sounds, all other thoughts except for the one that keep dancing round and round her head:_

'_Why did Nolan lie to me?'_

"_Elita? Elita, are you okay?" Aine asked, a little fearfully. "You're starting to scare me – oh crap, are you unconscious again??"_

_Elita snapped back to reality and the buzzing stopped. "No, no, I am alright," Elita soothed. "I am just…surprised. I never knew what happened to your mother. Nolan never said anything."_

_Aine shrugged. "Nolan doesn't like to talk about her a lot and we've never talked about when she died. He was really close to her, so it really hurt him a lot. That's probably why he didn't tell you, he didn't want to talk about it."_

"_Aine…forgive me if I offend you, but are you certain your mother is deceased?"_

"_Totally certain."_

_Elita recalled the letter of goodbye and apology Nolan kept with him. "But how can you be so sure?" she pressed._

_Aine gave the steering wheel a slightly odd look, but answered anyway. "Well for one thing, it was an open casket funeral. She was definitely in there."_

"'_Open casket?' I am sorry, but I do not understand."_

"_Um, in western cultures, we traditionally bury our dead in a casket, that's like a long box made of wood. Open casket means you leave the top half open so the person's family can see them one last time."_

_So, Aine saw her mother's body for herself. It was not a mistake, or a trick, or a lie then. But what about the note-_

_Oh._

_Oh, no._

"_I am sorry," Elita said lowly. "I was not aware."_

_Aine rubbed the dashboard in a comforting manner. "It's okay. I've had a long time to come to terms with it. I still miss her sometimes, but I'm okay."_

"_I wish to ask how she died, if I may."_

_Aine leaned back in her seat and tilted her head as she thought and recalled. _

"_Well, it'll be five years ago exactly come Christmas. It had been snowing hard all day, and it was still coming down pretty heavy. We were supposed to go see Mom's side of the family, but Dad didn't want to go because the roads were so bad, so we stayed home instead. _

"_I don't know exactly what happened, since it happened after we went to bed and Mom stayed up to clean up, I think. I think what happened was that Mom saw something out the window, maybe a stray cat or something, and she was worried about it being out in the storm at night. Mom was a really nice person, really compassionate. Nolan says she loved animals, and that she could never NOT offer a helping hand to someone who needed it. Anyway, she probably went outside to find it, or to make sure if she really saw one. I know she only planned to be out a few minutes, since she put on snow boots but didn't bother to grab a parka or anything. She was probably afraid of taking too long and loosing the cat if she did._

"_Like I said, the snow was coming down hard and thick. What we think happened is that she got turned around and couldn't find her way back to the house because she forgot to turn on the porch light or didn't think she'd wander that far."_

_Aine started looking a little uncomfortable, so she just shrugged. "It was below freezing temperatures, and she was trapped outside without a coat. You can figure out the rest, right?"_

"_Yes," Elita said. "I can."_

"_The worst part was, in the morning, nobody knew anything. Dad reported her missing, and I remember seeing her picture on the TV once or twice. The searchers didn't find her body until three or four days later, buried under two days worth of snow. She made it all the way down to the lakeshore before…you know."_

The image of Nolan dashing across the battled scored meadow to save the photo and letter suddenly took on a larger, heavier meaning, as did his protectiveness and possessiveness of Aine. After the loss of the mother, how could he be certain he would not lose his sister too?

The day, the storm, the suddenness of it all…in terms of facts, Aine's account matched up with Nolan's, though it seemed she was speaking less from personal experience and observation and more one what she learned and heard. What Elita could not fathom was why Nolan had lied to her about their mother's death.

_**Did** Nolan lie?_ Elita wondered. She replayed her talk with Nolan word for word in her mind, and while it was true he never came out and said their mother was dead, he had said she was 'gone.' He didn't lie, so much as omitted certain truths and told the rest in a literal way. If Elita took him to be speaking figuratively, then it would only be her fault. After all, Nolan DID say she "walked out" and "left", and she literally did just that, in the sense that she never came back in. Nolan had also repeatedly said that there was no uncertainty whether or not she could be contacted. He knew she was dead, so of course she was not coming back.

For the sixth time, Elita looked over her should to the pair. Aine hadn't moved, but Nolan had taken to walking in circles around her, swinging his arms back and forth. Elita's shoulders fell marginally as the pieces fell into place.

_Nolan says she 'left', Aine says she died essentially on accident. But if it were truly an accident, she would not have left her note. If she had not intended for this, she would not have been so careless…_

Elita remembered very well now long it had taken her to get from the lake edge to the O'Connell home. She couldn't believe their mother, who had lived in that house for years, could have wandered so far, or not realized she was going down a slope even if her vision was obscured.

Nolan had also she said had "abandoned" them. That too, had been the truth, if seen from a certain point of view.

"_I hated her for a long time after that, you know? I hated her for just giving up on us like that. But when I got a little older, and got more of a taste of what Dad's really like without Mom acting as a buffer, I started understanding better why she did what she did, I guess."_

"_You do not hold anger toward her anymore?"_

"_I sure as hell haven't forgiven her for it yet, but I don't hate her for it anymore. I guess I'll always wish she'd stayed, but I can't hate her for leaving anymore."_

Aine didn't know. That much Elita could be certain of. Their mother had left the note for Nolan alone, probably because Aine was such a young child and the loss of a parent was traumatic enough.

Not that thirteen was much better.

For the seventh time, Elita looked over her shoulder to her guides and charges. This time Nolan noticed her glance, and raised his head in acknowledgment. Elita nodded and looked at the pair for a few extra seconds before turning away again.

Two young humans, mere children really, both carrying their own burdens, even if she did not yet know what Aine's was exactly. They had each other; their bond was clear and strong, and yet for all their closeness and trust they both chose to keep their greatest secrets to themselves…but only so that they could spare the other further pain and burden. But Aine needed to tell Nolan what it was that was weighing so heavily on her mind, and Nolan needed to tell Aine the truth of their mother. This much, Elita was certain of. Such honesty, while perhaps painful to hear, would ultimately be the best for them both.

But it wasn't as though Elita could walk over there and demand they open up to each other right here and now. Never mind that she had promised Nolan not to say anything about what they talked about, it wasn't her place to butt in into such personal matters. Then again, Elita could see that the two of them had created a balance that simply could not last much longer. Besides, if nothing else, Aine had the right to know the truth of her mother. She was not a little child anymore. By the Matrix, she's older now than Nolan was when *he* found out. But then again, it was a sensitive issue and should not be rushed.

_I am thinking as if I had the luxury of time,_ Elita scolded herself. _Yet I said I would leave them in a city sometime this morning so that they could secure transport home. I only have a few more hours with them, at the very most._

Elita's spark ached at the thought of leaving the children to face such uncertainty and fend for themselves as they returned home. True, they were mature, intelligent, and responsible, and the Femme had no doubts they would watch out for each other or knew how to take care of themselves…but she couldn't shake the feeling, no, the belief that just because they could fend for themselves, it didn't mean they should have to.

_And with the mother truly out of the picture, there are no other alternatives to Richard,_ she thought as she disconnected herself from the power box. _I do not want to send them back, but what other choice is there?_

Elita knew the 'stay-or-go' talk would be rehashed as they got closer to the city, and Aine would try to convince her and Nolan to not force her to leave. As Elita approached the pair in the grass, she found herself almost hoping Aine would succeed, just so she wouldn't have to send them back to that pathetic excuse for a parent.

_If I do have to send them back to Richard,_ Elita thought vehemently even as she gave Nolan a pleasant greeting, _then I swear by Primus, the Allspark, and the Matrix that I will not leave them there!_

* * *

Elita had gotten a huge head start, and there was no way he was going to be able to track down the same path she took. To attempt so would be foolhardy and waste too much time, time he was swiftly running out of. His best course of action now was to anticipate where she would go next and head her off there.

Unfortunately, while there was no doubt as to where she was going, there was no way he could be certain which path she would take to get there. The way he figured, she would either take the most roundabout route she could to try and loose him, head straight for the base in an attempt to get there before he had a chance to recuperate and catch up, or take the most populated route she could in hopes the exposure would protect her from attacks.

If she took the first option, there was no way he'd be able to find her in time. But, he didn't think she would. Her energy had been low when she landed, and while he didn't know if she had had a chance to refuel between then and now, the point remained that she probably didn't have the time or energy to extend her journey by so much.

If she took the third option, it was essentially game over. He wouldn't be able to catch her alone before she was close enough to the base to call reinforcements, and while the potential for dozens, even hundreds of human deaths lost in the crossfire didn't bother him, he wasn't eager to incur the wrath of some three hundred million of them, thank you very much.

That left the straight and true path, the only one where he had any options at all and, by default, the one he was going to have to plan around. There was a location or two he could use, particularly in the rocky desert landscape that surrounded him and still awaited her. He only had a few more hours to plan and prepare before she arrived, if this was the choice she made, and he was going to make every minute count.

He was gambling, true, but Onslaught wasn't leaving any of the rest to chance.


	11. Ch 11 Shattered

Ch. 11 – Shattered

AN: …At least I got it up, right? *dodges rotten fruit*

Disclaimer: If I owned Transformers, Elita would have gotten a lot more attention in the G1 cartoon and more face time in subsequent comics, shows, ect. And, she wouldn't have fragging died in the movie comics! *grrr…*

**Edit: **Completely forgot to mention! Transformergirl over at (also known as Lnzy1 right here on ) has drawn a picture of Nolan and Aine together. Go check it out at .com/art/Aine-and-Nolan-112693389

* * *

_Southern Utah, 10:47 a.m._

Nolan wasn't a navigation expert, and he still didn't have a car, so he couldn't speak from experience either. But he was pretty sure that the highway would have been faster than this winding little road. He would also venture that Dodge City, now several hours behind them, would have been as good a place as any for them to separate with Elita.

Both Elita and Nolan pretended not to know this.

It didn't really matter anyway. It wasn't like Nolan was dying to get off, and Aine had mentioned to Elita that Southern Utah was pretty famous for its geography, which Nolan himself had confirmed.

"You can't kick a dead cat without hitting a canyon down there, from what I've heard."

And, well, since they hadn't seen hide or head of Onslaught since yesterday morning, Elita thought it would be safe enough. Hence, the scenic detour.

As Aine ooh-ed over the golden brown cliffs and patters in the cut away mountainside, Nolan had to admit this had been a pretty good idea. He himself, not much for nature and zen or all that jazz, was getting taken in by the scenery. Even Elita seemed impressed by what she was seeing. When Nolan asked if she hadn't seen cooler stuff in the galaxy, she explained that while had seen many wonders in her time and travels, she rarely had the luxury of time to reflect and appreciate them, and never had they been so close at hand. Usually one had to go out of their way to see such natural wonder, and while it was true that the best scenery was currently out of reach their reach, preserved and protected by their government, just this sample by the road was more than enough.

_So this is like, a mini vacation for her_, Nolan mused as they passed between two huge pillars of rock. _No wonder she let Aine talk her into this. Not that I'm complaining_.

"This is so beautiful. I'm so glad we decided to come out here," Aine cooed, her breath fogging the window as she pressed her nose against it, captivated by the landscape zipping past. She and her brother were both in the back seat, feeling it was safe for now with the lack of other cars and witnesses. Besides, being in the back made it easier to slide back and forth and take advantage of all the windows.

"Omigosh a cotote!"

"What? Where?" Nolan practically crawled over Aine's lap to look out the window, trying to see the elusive creature. His face lit up with joy when he spotted it. "Awesome! I think I see pups!"

"What!? Where??"

Elita laughed at the simple joy of the children. "I am glad the two of you are enjoying yourselves so much," she said sincerely. "I feel privileged and grateful that I am able to create one last memory with the two of you before we must part."

Nolan tensed, and retreated to the far end of the seat.

"Mm-hmm," Aine said, only half listening. A beat passed before she whipped her head back around. "What? Oh no, you still want to leave us??"

Here it comes…

"We have been over this already," Elita said patiently. "I have kept you for too long as it is, longer than is safe. I cannot afford to wait any longer, lest we tempt fate."

"Yeah, but we haven't seen Onslaught since yesterday morning. That's, like, 24 hours ago! As far as we know, he might still be in Ohio trying to fix that big hole in his chest."

"An assumption we would be ill advised to act upon without evidence."

"Okay, fine, but you still haven't explained what YOU'RE going to do next, or what'll you do if you're forced off course again!"

"Aine, I say this from the depth of my spark that I am grateful and flattered you think so highly of my safety. But you're safety, and that of you brothers, is paramount to me. I am a soldier; I have been surviving on my own for a very long time. I will manage. You and Nolan should not have to protect me."

Then Elita pulled out her ace in the hole.

"Remember Aine, you cannot force me to bring you the rest of the way. You will have to leave my cabin at some point."

Aine stared, stunned at the sudden turn, mouth ajar and without a suitable response. Nolan felt himself relax, hopeful that he wouldn't have to say anything. After all, Elita was right; there was nothing Aine could do to make her do anything if she didn't want to, and Elita was dead set on getting rid of them because she thought they'd be safer that way.

Desperate, Aine turned to Nolan. "Nolan! Help me out here! She's not listening to me anymore!"

Nolan stiffened visibly and dropped his gaze so that he would not have to meet Aine's own, feeling a little like a ostrich trying to hide with its head in the ground.

Confused by the odd reaction, Aine bent down and tilted her head up, trying to catch his eyes but failing as he kept turning his head. The more she tried to get him to look at her, the more he seemed to curl into himself. "Nolan? Everything alright?"

Oh, how he had dreaded this part.

"We have to leave Aine," he said quietly, not raising his head. "It's the only thing we can do."

Aine reared back as if Nolan had slapped her, staring at him in disbelief, her face an expression of shock and hurt, her eyes already brimming with tears. "What? But, last night, you said…"

"I said I would think about it, and I did," Nolan said, tightening his arms across his chest defensively. "I mean, I get what you're saying, I get where you're coming from, and it's totally understandable and all but…well…look, I just can't okay? I'm sorry, I just can't knowingly let you stay in a dangerous situation even if I get why you want to do it."

"Your brother speaks the truth Aine," Elita said gently. "We are not trying to coddle you, and I am not trying to 'get rid of' you. We both desire the same thing: your safety, above all else."

Aine trembled there for a few seconds more before sinking back into her seat as if in defeat. Nolan felt like a total ass for making her feel this way, but there wasn't any other way. Nolan lifted a hand to touch her shoulder in an attempt at comfort, when Aine sat straight in her seat, looking either mad or annoyed.

"Fine. I get that. Just, for my peace of mind, tell me already what you're going to do to avoid detection, navigate the roads and highways, AND avoid Onslaught all at the same time by yourself with no communications, no navigation, nothing but the maps and directions we have right now which will become obsolete as soon as you have to go too far off-course to avoid populated areas so no one notices the driverless car which, by the way, will make you a sitting duck for Onslaught!"

Nolan gaped at his sisters sudden mood swing, still fighting to stay on, still refusing to give ground even when all reason and logic say the battle is already over, even Elita said so.

(But you…but you…)

"I confess I have no set plans for such contingencies," Elita admitted, but with a hint of steel that hadn't been there before, "but it is irrelevant to the here and now."

(…you said you'd go with what I said, didn't you? That was our agreement last night…)

Aine quailed a little, but still tried to hang on. "Sorry, but I can't just let this go, you know? I don't think it's as simple as you and Nolan are making it out to be."

(…we agreed I'd have the final word, and I've given the final word. Why wasn't she listening? Why was she still not listening? Why wasn't she doing what she said she would do? Why wasn't she, why wouldn't she…)

"Just DROP IT already!!"

Aine gasped and retreated to the corner of the seat, staring in wide eyed disbelief at her brother. Had Elita possessed a countenance, she probably would have too. Nolan couldn't bring himself to care.

"We've already been over this! It's the exact same argument and the exact same points, and you're not getting anywhere with this! Elita already said she's going to drop us off at the city, and you can't make her change her mind! We're both trying to tell you the exact same thing Aine, so would you stop being so damn stubborn and just DROP it already? Beside, YOU said last night that if I really thought about what you said and STILL thought leaving was the best choice, you'd go along with it without another word. What happened to that??"

This time, it was Aine who tried to avoid eye contact. "Yeah, I did say that, I guess…"

"You 'guess'? Seriously, where is this coming from? You've never been so…so…" Nolan waved his hands in the air at the lack of a proper adjective. "I don't know, but you've never been like this before!"

Aine was quiet for a long time, long enough for the increasingly frustrated Nolan to think she was going mute on the matter, before she answered in a tiny voice. "I thought I'd be able to let it go like I said if you really, really thought I should. But now that I'm here, I just…I just can't. I can't let this go. I can't let Elita go on alone like this. I'd never forgive myself if I did."

"Aine? What was it that you two discussed last night?" Elita asked tenderly.

Aine wrung her hands in her lap, and to Nolan's shock she began in a near whisper "Well, you see-"

"It doesn't matter," Nolan interrupted. "Point is, Aine, you said you'd drop it, and now you've gotta drop it."

Before Elita could reprimand Nolan for talking over Aine, the girl beat her to it.

"Don't take words out of my mouth!" She snapped angrily, hands clenching the skirt of her white skorts. "I have a right to talk you know."

"Yeah, but you're doing right now is repeating yourself. Anyway, our conversation last night was private, Elita doesn't need to know all that. That was OUR private conversation, you know! You don't have to share everything WE talk about!"

"I'm not putting this on MySpace you know! And I think Elita does deserve to know! We've been talking about her, in case you haven't noticed!"

Nolan slammed a hand against the window with a resounding SMACK!

"Elita Elita Elita ELITA! This entire trip it's always been about Elita! You don't listen to me, you don't **think** about me, and you're always taking her side!"

Aine stared at him in shocked disbelief. "What? I don't take her side-"

"What about at the library? You didn't stay with me, you just left like Elita told you to. And what about when I was trying to explain why I had to save the bags? You didn't trust me, you just took Elita's side that I was being an idiot!"

"You could have gotten hurt or-"

"Don't you think I KNEW that?? Don't you think I wouldn't have done it without a damn good REASON?? But you never had faith in me; you just took Elita's side and never gave a thought about mine!"

"That's not-"

"Oh sure, I know you don't _mean_ it like that, but your intentions don't mean squat if you don't DO anything to show them! I'm your brother, for god's sake. We're supposed to look out for _each other_, just like we've always done ever since Mom – ever since we were kids!"

Nolan's voice was rising as he hit his stride, getting more and more worked up as the words and emotions spilled from his mouth like magma.

"Don't you get it? Everything I've done for the last five years, all the work and saving and putting up with Dad, I've done it for _you_! I've been putting you first for half my life, and I've never asked anything from you. Am I crazy for wanting a little loyalty back?"

"I never said-"

"Damn it Aine, you're the most important person in the world to me, and I'd do anything to keep you safe! Don't you get that yet? Don't you get that I'd do anything for you? Don't you think that I deserve some loyalty and faith in you? Haven't I earned it by now? For the love of God I'm not going to be able to graduate high school now because I'll be too busy working five part time jobs putting _you_ through high school instead!"

Dead silence.

Nolan waited for Aine to say something, but grew increasingly annoyed as she just stared blankly at him…until it dawned on him what, exactly, he had just said. Nolan's face went from 'frustrated annoyance' to 'ohshit' in two seconds flat, and he slapped his hand over his mouth too late to stop the words.

"What…did you say?" Aine whispered.

Nolan looked away. "Nothing."

"Nolan, you said you weren't – what do you mean you're not going to graduate high school? Is it because you work so much you don't have time to study? Oh my god, Nolan, is it because you're always worrying about me that you can't concentrate? Don't tell me you're flunking out!"

Nolan said nothing, pressing his lips together.

Aine scooted closer to Nolan, and put a small hand on his lap. "Nolan, I'm so sorry, but you didn't have to do that for me. And you still have senior year, you still have time to make up, it's not that dire yet, right Elita?"

"…"

"Elita?"

"You never intended to return home, did you Nolan?" Elita asked quietly.

Nolan stiffened and his breathe stilled for a brief moment. It was answer enough.

Elita gave a hollow laugh. "I thought so. Your sudden change of heart over coming with her, your over eager packing, your frugal spending, the addition of enough food and medicines to last weeks, your antagonism with Richard and desire to protect Aine…what a fool I was not to see it sooner."

Aine withdrew his hand in shock and disbelief. The silence hung thick and heavy in the cab, chocking those within and suffocating their words.

"You weren't…but I…I thought…why?"

Nolan only curled more tightly into his shell and said nothing. He felt the pit of his stomach give way as he felt the car slow and pull over. He half expected to look up and see another library.

"Nolan, while you and I are not done with this, this is an issue that the two of you need to work out together first," Elita said evenly. "Using me to run away from home notwithstanding, this speaks of larger issues between the two of you that an outsider like me has no place interfering in."

What? Larger issues? He was dropping out of school and running away from home with his sister, what could be bigger than that?

"I will respect your privacy, but I need you to stay within my line of sight." Elita instructed. "The two of you may take as much time as you need. Aine, hear what Nolan needs to say. Nolan, let Aine say what she needs to say. That is all I ask."

* * *

Elita watched the pair trek across the sands in a more or less straight line, ground allowing.

Elita wasn't terribly shocked by the revelation…but she _was_ hurt. Their relationship with their father, their mothers death, now this…Elita hadn't expected Nolan to make her his confidante, but the more she got to know him, the more it turned out he was hiding from her. Now, not only did he truly _lie_ to her, he was _using_ her to his own ends. He didn't do it to be malicious or manipulative, but it was still painful.

And now Aine knew her brother had been lying to her, keeping secrets from her. She clearly had no idea of Nolan's plans, and was completely innocent of the matter. But now, the question remained as to how she would react to this.

Still, Elita knew one thing for certain: whatever came out of this long overdue talk, their relationship was never going to be the same again.

* * *

The siblings walked off about a hundred yards from where Elita was parked, Nolan leading with hands in his pockets, Aine in his shadow with her hands clenched over her chest. They finally stopped under the shade of a particularly large boulder, far enough for Nolan to feel comfortable that Elita wouldn't be able to overhear them even inadvertently, but close enough so that they weren't out of her sight.

They stood there awkwardly for several seconds, not sure how to begin. It was Aine who broke the silence.

"What…what exactly…were you planning to do?" She asked quietly. "I mean, I know you wanted to move out as soon as you could, after you graduated, but why are you doing this now?"

Nolan ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to organize his thoughts and rather haphazard plan in a concise manner to best convey the, the _rightness_ of it, the logic of it. Once she understood the why's and how's, she'd understand why he did it, and she'd agree what he did was for the best…right?

"First off, you know I'm not leaving just for myself, right?"

Aine looked up at him in confusion, and he quickly clarified. "I mean, yes I want to leave home, get out of Dad's house, but…I want to take you with me."

Confusion morphed into, well, more confusion, with some blank surprise. "Excuse me?"

"I've got it all figured out," Nolan hurried to explain. "I've got about three thousand dollars now, plenty enough to get a small apartment and cover living expenses for a few months if we plan carefully. Long enough for me to find a job, or even a few part time jobs to support us. You can enroll in a local public school and still finish your education while I work. Once you're done and taken care of, I can work on getting my own GED afterwards. Best of all, since we're so far out and didn't leave a trail or anything, Dad won't be able to find us and drag you back home!"

Nolan started speaking faster as he got more excited, even pacing back and forth and waving his hands as he went along. "You won't have to work like a live-in maid anymore, and you'll be able to make friends and hang out without having to worry about him being on your case or saying you're wasting your time, you'll be able to focus on school work instead of catering to Dad's latest whim, he won't yell at either of us again, he won't be able to control us anymore…we'll be _free_ Aine! And we can be free _right now_, or as soon as we get back to civilization anyway. We won't have to wait another year after all!"

Aine lowered her eyes and her shoulders slumped slowly. Nolan took no note and kept talking.

"I, look, I didn't mean to hurt Elita or anything. I'm sorry about what I said before, I'm just kinda stressed I guess and I took it out on you and her. I'm really sorry about that. But this was just too good a chance to pass up, and it's not like anyone got hurt. Elita gets the help she needed and we get a free ride out of that house with no paper trail between here and there. Everyone wins! You see?"

Silence. Nolan finally looked over at her, and was sincerely, if mildly, surprised that she didn't look contemplative, happy, interested, or any of those things. Her eyes were down, and she just looked…sad?

"Aine? Aine? Um, you know, when two people are talking, it kinda helps if they take turns."

Aine muttered something, but it was so quiet Nolan couldn't catch it even as he leaned it and strained his hearing.

"What was that?"

"I said, it won't work."

Nolan reared back. "What?"

"I said it won't work," she repeated, more firmly this time. She still couldn't look at Nolan, and her face was starting to go red with embarrassment and uncertainty, but she pressed on anyway. "We didn't leave a paper trail, sure, but Dad can still call the police and, and they'll be able to find us anyway. Maybe, maybe he can't talk about Elita, but he can still come up with something and, the minute you, you have to give you social security number to an employer or I enroll in a school they're going to know where we are."

"Then I'll find work picking corn or something, I'll find something where I don't _have_ to give my social security number." Nolan insisted, almost desperately. "And maybe you can do the on-line thing, they can't track you through that, right? Or we can get different names, at least for you if you really don't want to home-school or whatever. Besides, I'm going to be 18 soon, it's not like I'm doing anything _illegal_."

"Kidnapping is a federal crime Nolan."

"…What?"

Aine finally lifted her head, the strength of her emotions overcoming her natural meekness – and the emotion was not a happy one.

"That's essentially what you're doing, right? You never told me what you were planning to do, and you never ASKED me if I wanted to go. We came out here together, but apparently under false pretenses! That's kidnapping Nolan! You want to move out and be on your own, fine! You want to drop out of high school to do it, FINE! But DON'T go making those decisions for ME!"

Nolan couldn't believe this. What was Aine saying? Why was she saying those words? And, and why was she looking at him with such…_anger_?

The diminutive girl was just getting started. "Not ONCE did you ask what I wanted, not ONCE did you ask for my input! You just assumed I'd be all happy and go along with anything you decided, because that's what I've always done before, right? Isn't that RIGHT!"

"Aine I - "

"Shut up Nolan." Aine snapped, and Nolan felt time stop. "Just, just shut up and LISTEN to me for once!

"Yes, I've always just gone along with what you and Dad wanted, but that was with stuff like, like after-school stuff or what we should have for dinner, not whether I should just pick up everything and move cross country! You didn't care what I thought before; you STILL don't care what I think now! All _you_ can see is what you _want_ to see. What if I DON'T want to live with you? What if I WANT to stay with Dad? Ever think about that?"

What?? What was Aine talking about? Why would she want to stay with Richard if there was a better option standing right in front of her? And now Nolan's shock and disbelief were morphing into anger and indignation.

"Pardon me for trying to do what's best for you!" he snapped back, his hands fisting at his sides. "You don't know what best for you, that's why I had to make this choice on my own! You don't see it now, but you'll get it later when you realize you're so much HAPPIER now without Dad! I won't - "

Nolan snapped his mouth shut, closed his eyes, and took a couple of deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down. Once he felt sufficiently cooled down, he leaned down forward and put his hands on his sister's shoulders, looking at her straight in the eye.

"I never told you this before, but when you were little Mom asked me to take care of you, and I promised her I would. I promised Mom that'd I'd watch out for you, that I'd protect you no matter what. After Mom d-…now that she's not around anymore, it's my job to take care of you. That's why I'm doing this. If you…" Nolan's voice cracked and he took a moment to collect himself as he felt his eyes start to burn. No, no, he needed to stay composed for this.

"If you stay with Dad," he started again, "he's going to break you. You're one of the kindest, most generous people I've ever known. Mom was too. But Dad's never appreciated you. All he's ever done is taken you for granted. You keep giving, and he's going to just take and take and take until you don't have anything left, and then you'll break so badly nobody will be able to put you back together.

"Getting you away from him is the single best thing I can do for you."

Aine's eyes were filling up as she looked back into Nolan's eyes, her breathing heavy. She blinked and tears came down her cheeks, and she lowered her head in an attempt to hide them. Nolan straightened a little, sure now that Aine was beginning to understand. He didn't like making her cry, but at least she understood now. Nolan tensed his arms to pull his sister close for a hug.

"You're wrong."

Nolan froze.

Aine wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and her wrist. "You're wrong. Dad has never been very emotional, even when Mom was still with us, but that doesn't mean he doesn't love us. And, and he loses his temper sometimes, sure, but it's not like he's ever _hurt_ either of us or starved us or anything, so it's not like he's being abusive."

Nolan's hands fell away from Aine's shoulders.

(Not…being…abusive??)

"But he still needs us Nolan." She went on. "We're family, and family is supposed to stick together. Do you remember what Dad was like after we lost Mom? He couldn't even stand to look at her picture, it hurt too much. That's why there aren't any pictures of her in the house any more, it's why he doesn't like talking about her. How much do you think this is going to hurt him now?"

Nolan's hands started to tremble.

(No, no, that's not it, that's not why. That wasn't grief at the loss of his wife, it was anger at her "leaving" him, trying to lash out after what her perceived to be her last act of defiance…)

"But Mom would have wanted us to stay together. She never would have wanted us to split up. I'm sure if Dad knew you felt like this, he'd feel _horrible_. You and Dad don't really talk, so he probably has no idea you feel like this about him. If, if we go back and you just open up to him-"

"Then what? Everything's going to be all peaches and cream and suddenly he'd gonna became Father of the Year?" Nolan interrupted irritably. "I remember what he used to be like, I remember what Mom was like a long time ago, I KNOW how they changed. Maybe Dad was an okay guy once, or maybe he only pretended to be, I don't know. But that's NOT who he is now. He's selfish, he's controlling, he doesn't care about anyone but himself, and the only good you and I have in his eyes is if we bow and kiss his feet and go 'yes master' every time he so much as twitches."

(I know I know I've seen I was old enough to understand it why won't you understand what I'm trying to tell you?)

Even before Nolan was finished Aine was rapidly shaking her head in denial. "No, no, you're oversimplifying it. You're vilifying him, that's not fair. He's our father, he's family! Family means we support each other, help each other. You said yourself Dad changed after Mom…after we lost Mom. We're all he has left. He needs us Nolan. Can't you understand that?"

"Dad has never been a part of the real family Aine." Nolan near whispered. "Can't you understand _that_?"

"Real…family?"

"Yes, the REAL family!" Nolan snapped louder, his fists clenching again as the frustration began to boil over anew. "Dad never wanted a family, he wanted servants and worshippers who would always keep him in the center of the universe and never think that they might have their own thoughts! Mom, you, me, we were the REAL family!"

"How can you say that? How can you say we were a family without Dad when Dad had always been right there?"

(Shut up, shut up, shut up shut up shut UP and listen already!!)

"He was there in the loosest sense of the word. We were what a family was supposed to be, but Dad tried to crush us under his heel and make us what he wanted, and the only reason we're not a total wreck by now is because Mom was there to hold him back. But Moms not here anymore, so the family is down to just the two of us. Dad – Richard, he might've donated the genetic material, but he is NOT our family!"

(Now stop it stop it stop it STOP IT! If you knew what he was really like you wouldn't be saying this, but I do you don't know that-)

"Mom LOVED him! Mom MARRIED him! Mom had kids with him! You want to talk about Mom, how about that she thought he was a part of the family! Mom would have NEVER wanted us to leave him! If it was really that bad, then Mom would've left him a long time ago!"

"She DID leave! Mom KILLED herself to get AWAY from him!"

The damning words were out before Nolan could comprehend they were even coming, and they danced away across the lifeless desert, shattering the winds and minds they passed. Aine's eyes were wide, her hands over her partially opened mouth. She couldn't think, she couldn't breathe, her heart felt as though it had stopped in her breast, because there was no way those words, those horrible words were real, because it was a cat, it was a cat in the snow that Mom was trying to save –

"There was NEVER a cat," Nolan said, and only then did Aine realize she had been muttering aloud.

"There was never a cat. Mom went outside, in a freaking blizzard, with no coat or anything. She got all the way down to the lake Aine, you think she would have wandered that far on accident? Don't you think she would've realized she was going the wrong way as soon as she started going downhill?"

(Pain pain this'll hurt her she'll feel my pain good good this is good she'll feel my pain know my pain share my pain and then she'll _understand_)

"She…she slipped, she slipped and couldn't get up…" Aine argued feebly. "She, she wouldn't do that, she couldn't…she wasn't…you can't know that…"

"She left a note Button. She wrote a letter saying she was sorry and goodbye, left it in my book so that only I'd find it, and then she went out in the snow storm wearing nothing but a nightgown and a robe so she could fall asleep, freeze and die out of sight and under the snow."

(feel my pain feel my burden and you'll understand my actions understand me know why I'm doing this when you feel the pain pain pain)

The tears were coming down silently, and Aine buried her face in her hands, crying without a sound as she always did. Nolan felt part guilt for causing those tears, but also vindication. NOW she was starting to understand. NOW she can comprehend just how bad a place Richard's house was. She couldn't hide behind denial and rationalization any longer, now that she knew the truth of how Mom died.

And now that she knows, she'd follow Nolan again, because she understood that he knew better.

As she cried silently, Nolan again put his hands on her shoulders. She flinched, and neither moved away nor came closer. She just accepted it, if stiffly.

"You see?" He said gently, "Mom couldn't stand to stay there either. There's no reason why we should too. I'm not going to wait until you're broken. If I do, it'll be too late."

Aine pulled her wet hands away from her eyes, her face red and splotchy from the tears. "Why didn't you ever tell me?" She choked out. "You've been carrying this all on your own. Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"I wanted to protect you," Nolan answered honestly, gently squeezing her arms. "You didn't need to know. It only would have upset you before. I'm telling you now because you need to understand why you have to listen to me now, like always. You've been different lately, and that's understandable since we're in a bit of a weird situation right now, but you've got to keep trusting me. I can't always explain why I do what I do, but if you just trust that I have your best interest at heart, everything will be okay."

Nolan leaned a little further down to catch her watery gaze. "It's always been just you and me, and it'll always be just you and me. You're the most important person in my life Button. I just need you to remember that I'm the most important person in yours."

Aine sucked in her breath as comprehension finally, FINALLY, flitted across her face. Nolan smile, satisfied that he had finally made his point. Nolan was right, in that Aine had made the connections and was now seeing the whole picture.

But, it wasn't the picture Nolan wanted her to see.

"You…you…I don't believe you!!"

Aine raised her hands in front of her and snapped them outwards, forcibly breaking the grip Nolan had on her shoulders. Nolan staggered back in disbelief, and then slapped a hand over his eyes.

"For Gods sakes, what is it THIS time??"

"It's not 'this' time Nolan, it's ALL the times before!" Aine snapped angrily, fire in her eyes. "You were always making decisions for me, always deciding what was good and what wasn't. You never let me try anything out for myself, and anytime I suggested something, you almost always shot it down because you had a better idea! You expect me to have perfect faith in you? Where's YOUR faith in ME? Where was it when I tried to tell you about Elita the first time? Where was your trust when I tried to tell you she wasn't dangerous?

"I love you Nolan, but what gives you the right to decide you MUST be the center of MY universe? Who says I have to drop everything to accommodate YOU?"

(no, no, this was wrong, this was going wrong wrong wrong)

"You've always been protective, I just didn't realize how _possessive_ you were! You've always treated me like a little kid, but NEVER like a real person with thoughts and opinions of my own. It's always been you, you, YOU! You weren't protecting me, you were just trying to keep me to yourself! You, you, you - "

(shut up shutupshutupshutup)

"YOU'RE EVEN WORSE THAN DAD IS!"

Nolans eyes widened in shock and rage, and they both new Aine had gone too far. Nolan swung his hand up and back, and Aine flinched and turned her head away, squeezing her eyes shut bracing for the powerful backhanded slap she could see coming her way, and probably deserved.

The blow never landed.

Slowly, Aine opened one eye, then the other, and cautiously looked back at Nolan.

His hand was still up, but a little lower now. His face, a rage filled mockery of his normal kind one, was now stunned and horrified at what he had nearly done. Slowly, he lowered his trembling hand and _stared_ at it as if it had betrayed him. He took a shaky step back, then another, still staring at his hand.

"Nolan?" Aine said tentatively, and Nolan shifted his gaze to her as if noticing her for the first time. Aine felt something inside her twist. She had never seen Nolan look so confused, so…so… utterly _helpless_. It was hard to believe he was almost eighteen, and not younger that Aine herself.

"I wasn't…I wasn't…" Nolan tried, taking another step back. Aine tried to approach him, her hand out towards him, but he scuttled back as if she were holding a hot poker.

"NO!" He shouted, almost hysterically. "Don't, don't come any closer. I don't…I thought I…I'm so sorry, I have to go."

Like a frightened animal, Nolan spun around and ran away from his sister, across the desert and leaping over the rocks in his way as if for his life. Aine watched him go and disappear around a turn, herself desperately trying to comprehend what had just occurred between them. Her hand ghosted over her cheek, nursing the bruise that never was.

"N-Nolan! Nolan wait!" Aine managed two steps forward before her progress was halted by a large, red, metallic hand around her midsection.

"Nolan needs to be alone right now," Elita said softly, her fingers wrapping around Aine protectively, gently. "He has realized something about himself he does not like. He will need a bit of time alone to come to terms with it, and he will return when he is ready."

Aine wrapped her arms around Elita's thumb, and the Femme could hear a sniffling sound from the hunched over form. With her other hand, Elita gently lifted the small girl up and off the ground and held her close to her chassis. For a long time Elita just held the weeping girl in her arms, letting the girl hold her digits and let her tears run as long as they needed.

* * *

Nolan had no idea where he was going or what direction he was running in. All he knew was that he had to put as much distance as possible between himself and Aine, so that he wouldn't have to seek that look on face, see the accusation, see the betrayal, and hurt, and…and…oh God, what had he _done_??

He skidded across the sands and rocks, bounding off boulders and nearly crashing headlong into them in his haste. Down a slope, the rocks gave way and he nearly fell face first down the incline, managing to tuck into a roll at the last second, skidding and sliding until he came to a stop at the bottom.

For several long seconds he stayed there, curled up at the bottom of the slope, heedless of the sand in his clothes and rocks stabbing into his soft sides or the harsh sun beating down on his bare neck. Those discomforts were NOTHING compared to the punishment he deserved.

"I almost hit Aine," Nolan choked out, gripping his arms as he trembled. "I almost hit her. I WANTED to hit her. I wanted to HURT her. Not even Dad ever went that far."

The urge to run in a vain attempt to escape his unforgivable sin gripped him with such force he was scrambling to his feet before he even had time to process the desire. But the exertion and guilt left his legs weak and unsteady, and he fell back again into the sands.

Nolan bent over double and gripped his head as his sister's face replayed itself over and over in his mind.

_What gives you the right to decide you MUST be the center of MY universe? Who says I have to drop everything to accommodate YOU?_

_You weren't protecting me, you were just trying to keep me to yourself!_

_YOU'RE EVEN WORSE THAN DAD IS!_

"I'm sorry!" Nolan cried out, trying to drown out the accusing, damning words. His hands came down and gripped an invisible book in his lap, and he hunched over the non-existent but most precious treasure he had, as if drawing his very life source from it.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry!" He choked over and over again. "I promised I'd take care of her, I promised I'd protect her, and I broke it!"

(broken broken shattered it you did a thousand little little pieces can't ever fix it shattered like glass broken broken broken)

"I broke it, I broke us, and I can't ever fix it! She'll, she'll never trust me again, she'll never want to come near be again because, because she's going to be _scared_ of me, she'll never want to be near me again! She's right, I'm even WORSE than Dad is, and, and, you must hate me just as much too now…"

Nolan openly sobbed, tears streaming down his face as the emotional pain racked his frame, hunching over even more, his hands desperate and gripping for the well worn paperback and the precious treasures it guarded. He shook his head desperately.

"I can't fix it, and now she's going to leave, she'll leave too and I can't make her come back. She's going to leave me behind too."

(again again you fool you can't protect them you can only break them push them pull them until they break under your hands just like Richard just like him just like him you break them all)

"I never meant for it to happen! I don't want it like this, I don't…Mom! Mom! Please help me! I don't, I don't know what to do…!"

His prayer and plea went unanswered. All he heard was the wind and his own racked sobs.

Nolan shook and cried until he was physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted. He wiped his eyes and his runny nose on his wrist, then drew his knees up and hugged them tight to his body, drowning in his own guilt and self-deprecation.

* * *

Aine's sobs had finally quieted down, and she just rested against the smooth warm metal of Elita's chassis, feeling grateful for the sense of comfort and envelopment her arms provided, and the silent patience that came with it.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Elita asked. Aine shook her head.

Maybe later, but right now she just felt dull and lightheaded, and just thinking about it all was almost enough to summon another flood.

Her brother's insistence on Richards abuse.

Her moms suicide.

Nolan's treatment of her, wrapped in good intentions but no less damaging.

Nolan's h-hand…

Warm tears ran down well0worn tracks, and Aine lacked the strength to wipe them away, only sniffling and wiping her nose on her wrist. She rested her head on Elita's chassis, and lost herself in the white noise of humming machinery and pumping liquids. It was so much easier to lose herself in the warmth and the sounds, to not have to think or remember…

Elita stiffened.

Aine rose her face nearly straight up and saw only the bottom of the femme's chin. Elita was stiff and staring intently at the mountains that rose sharply across the road a small ways away.

"Is someone coming?" Aine asked, wiping her face on her sleeve. Elita's answer was short and clipped.

"Onslaught is here."

Aine's insides turned to ice.

Elita snapped from maternal to soldier in the blink of an eye. She swiftly deposited Aine on her feet and made the girl face her with a finger tip on the shoulder.

"Go find Nolan, tell him Onslaught is nearby and that I have gone to confront him. You tow are to find someplace to hind and stay there until I come back for you. Do you understand?"

Shakily, Aine nodded.

"One last thing Aine, and this is most important." Elita pointed back to the road, to a tall boulder that was tipped a little to the side. "You will find your bags at the base of that rock. If I do not return by dusk, take your water bottles and hike down the road. You should reach a small community within a few hours if you do not stop. You need not fear dehydration if you travel in the dark."

"If you don't…Don't say that! You'll be fine!" the girl tried to insist.

Elita gave Aine a hard look. "Listen to me. I will not have you and Nolan wait here indefinitely for me if I cannot come back. Remember, pick a place to hide, and no matter what you may hear _do not come out_."

With that, Elita rose, jerked her hand once to bring out the wrist pistol, and leapt away, running for the mountains with long strides that made her look as if she were flying.

Aine stood in place, staring after Elita as she watched her go, feeling so many emotions it all left her njmb. But at some point, her brain kick stared back into high gear.

"Nolan…Nolan! Nolan where-" Aine slapped a hand over her mouth and glanced furtively around her. When Onslaught didn't appear of the ground, her thumping heart slowed slightly. The Decepticon was probably too far away to hear, or was too focused on Elita to come…but Aine wasn't going to tempt fate.

But Nolan was still out there, and there was no way she was going to abandon him out here even without Elita telling her anything. Relying on memory and the occasional sneaker print in the sands, Aine traced after the elder O'Connell. If this was the only way she could help Elita, if this was the only way she could protect Nolan, then darn it she wasn't going to stand around like a helpless baby and wibble about it!

* * *

"_Utah? Seriously, we've been trying to intercept Elita or whatever for two days, and we're BACK in UTAH? Okay, you know what, I'm voting we just go home and meet her there. At this rate we're not gonna catch up until we hit our own doorsteps."_

"I never knew you were so adverse to Utah Sam," Mikaela teased over the comm.

"_Hey, I've got no problem with Utah. They've got pretty parks, nice slopes and lots of green jell-o. I've just got a problem with the whole round about, three-day-non-stop road trip that begin and ends in the same place."_

"Are we feeling grumpy today?"

"…_Maybe a little. Sorry, I don't mean to sound all mean and stuff, but I'm just feeling kinda irritated now. And a little restless."_

"_If it makes you feel any better, if Elita gets back to base too soon we could always get lost and spend a couple of weeks in Mexico,"_ Bumblebee suggested.

"Two super advanced robotic organisms with built in GPS, internet connections, high end communications, and upgrades and schematics specifically designed for infiltration and scouting respectively, getting three hundred or so miles off course when they're only the next state over?" Mikaela said skeptically.

"_We got VERY lost."_

"…I'm cool with that."

"_...Oh my. You should probably hold on to something Sam."_

"Why-AAAAIIIII!"

Without warning Bumblebee swerved sharply to the right, crossed three lanes of moderate traffic and nearly clipped one car to catch the exit, with the Pontiac Solstice behind him following so closely they might as well have been tied together with a six inch string.

"_PLEASE tell me there was a good reason for that," _Sam pleaded, sounding out of breath and just as unnerved as his girlfriend currently was.

"Kay now, I'm DEFINATLEY pickin' up an energy trail here, and since I ain't heard anything 'bout giant robots having another throw down anywhere, I'm pretty sure it's Elita's," Jazz reported cheerfully.

"I thought you said weather and activity would wash away any trail," Mikaela said uncertainly.

"An' it will, eventually. The trails faint already. Heck, only reason I'm gettin' anythin' at ALL is 'cause it's fresh."

"How fresh?"

"Personally, I'd peg her no more than a couple o'hours ahead of us. Bee?"

"_Less than one. You're losing your touch Jazz."_

"Say that again next time you want someone to infiltrate a Decepticon stronghold and come out with all their plans and schematics before they even notice a blip on the radar."

"So wait, we're almost caught up?" Mikaela asked excitedly.

"Sure are, little lady!"

"_Darn, I was really looking forward to that Mexico trip."_

* * *

Elita followed the signal to a ravine, descending cautiously, each step careful but firm so that not a single rock could fall and give away her position, and to prevent the sands from sliding and taking away her balance. The element of surprise was the greatest asset of a guerilla fighter, especially one with limited weaponry, and Elita was going to use it to her fullest advantage.

The ravine was deep and wide, big enough for someone as tall as Elita to disappear in. There was a stream at the bottom, still carving into the earth, but narrow and shallow in the summer heat. It was along this beach Elita walked, the softer sands muffling her footsteps. Her short range scanners were picking up Onslaughts signal loud and clear, and while he was moving slowly away, Elita was catching up to him at a steady pace.

So far everything was going as well as could be expected. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something…off about all this. It wasn't the usual instinct that usually warned her of danger. There was something missing here, she felt like she had forgotten something important, and it wouldn't stop bugging her.

Oh, she knew it was a trap, but that much was obvious. Onslaught was no idiot, she understood perfectly well he was drawing her out for another fight, and this time he had the chance to prepare and set the stage as he saw fit. But if the alternative was to stay out and risk the fight falling on top of the children, then she would rather spring the trap herself.

Still, it WAS a bit odd that Onslaught chose such a disadvantageous location to draw her to. Elita could move just fine, though her fighting would be more restricted because of the high walls and narrow space. Big, bulky Onslaught, however, would be lucky if he could even turn around. Not to mention, this area with its boulders and slopes, ravines, caverns, and all around geographical richness made this an excellent battle ground for the hit-and-run tactic Elita excelled at, and gave no advantage to the front-line fighter Onslaught.

Elita frowned as she approached the last bend separating her from her opponent. It was possible that, in his eagerness for revenge, Onslaught had made these careless mistakes because he was too impatient to fight again. But the Decepticon was too smart for that. Last time, he had waited patiently out of sight until Elita was in the perfect position for an ambush, and very nearly crushed her in one blow. Then again, his transponder signal was almost right in front of her, and for all intents and purposes he hadn't yet –

Elita stopped.

The signal. The hill. She hadn't been able to detect his transponder signal at the hill. He didn't HAVE a signal TO pick up at the hill, which meant…oh Primus NO!!

With a lunge Elita crossed the bend, and was greeted not by the sadistic and now defunct gestalt leader, but by a small, inauspicious wheeled scout drone. Such drones were popular with scouting and reconnaissance teams to explore areas too small or too dangerous to risk people, and where only basic knowledge would be needed. The little thing could have easily fit in Elita's hand, and it was happily broadcasting Onslaughts signal with the transponder chip he no longer had.

Onslaught had led her away…and now the children were alone.

The femme spun on her heel and ran back as fast as her legs could carry here, the little drone already forgotten. She had stupidly, stupidly fallen for the trap, and if she wasted so much as half a second the children could very well be the ones to pay for it.

* * *

Aine's lungs burned for air, her sides were protesting violently, and her heart was going to fast it threatened to go out at any moment, and not just from the exertion. But Aine felt all this vaguely, like the pain was muffled by thick cotton. She wouldn't stop, _couldn't_ stop, not until she found Elita.

'_Find Elita find Elita find Elita find Elita'_ was the mantra that kept her going even as she nearly slipped and crashed half a dozen times, exhaustion and near panic taking a toll on her coordination. She fled from sand to pavement, trying to follow Elita's path by memory alone. So singleminded was she on her mission, she literally did not see the car coming down the road.

The car hit the brakes and squealed to a stop, the driver laying on the horn in desperate warning. Aine screamed and spun to escape, only to overbalance and fall on her rump. The car skidded to a stop less than a foot from where she lay, the smell of burning rubber wafting through the air. Aine started at the gleaming bumper dumbly, shock from her near death wiping her mind clean of anything for a few seconds.

"WHOA! Whoa, are you okay?"

Aine heard a car door, two doors, open and shut. The slap slap slap of sneakers with the occasional crunch of wayward sand underfoot, and a warm body on either side of her, one after the other.

"Hey, talk to me kid. Oh crap, is she in shock? What're supposed to do when someone goes into shock??"

Aine snapped back to reality with a quick shake of her head and an "I'm fine, I'm fine."

She started to stand, and felt a hand at her elbow helping her to her feet. She looked up to her helper, a tall, skinny teenage boy with short curly hair and brown eyes. Aine felt cool hands take her own, and she refocused her attention on the other person, a pretty girl with black hair and blue eyes. The older girl sucked air through her teeth.

"Ooooh, ouch, does it hurt?" the girl asked. Aine looked down at her hands. The heels of her palms had been scrapped bloody by the impromptu meeting with the asphalt, and the other girl was already working on picking out the smalls rocks stuck in the wounds.

_I don't have time for this!_

"I'm fine, its fine, everything's fine, thanks for asking, gotta go bye!"

Aine tried to back away from the girl, but she had forgotten about the boy still behind her. She nearly knocked them both back down from the force of her backpedaling. The boy barely saved the them trip, grabbing Aine's shoulders to balance them both.

"Whoa hold it! Seriously, relax, we're not crazy psycho people or anything. Hey uh…" The boy looked around at the conspicuously deserted road. "Where ARE you going anyway? Wait…you aren't hitchhiking, are you?"

Aine's mind was blank, unable to come up with a semi-plausible reason on the fly why a 14 year old girl with apparently nothing but the clothes on her back was doing alone in the middle of the desert without so much as a water bottle in hand. The boy took her silence as guilty admittance.

"Oh MAN," he groaned, letting his head fall backwards at the utter stupidity. His head came back down with a sigh. "Okay, I'm not going to ask why, since it's probably pretty bad if you're that desperate. At least let us take you to the next city where you can call someone, alright?"

A blue car and other would be helpers flashed in Aine's memory.

"NO!"

She ripped herself away from the boy and backed away as if he was holding a hot poker.

"No, no no no, it's not like that! I'm not a runaway or anything, really!" Aine waved her hands in front of her to punctuate just how wrong that was. "I just…I just…wandered off a little…to explore…because the rest of my family is setting up camp nearby, and I was bored and didn't have anything to do and wanted to explore a little, that's all! I'll be fine really! Just keep going already thank you bye!"

The teens were looking at her like they were seriously wondering about the state of her mental well being. Aine grinned wildly at them, desperately hoping they'd hurry up and _leave_ already. She couldn't very well have them trying to follow her or still be here when Elita came back!

_See, see, I'm fine, I'm fine, everything is peachy and good. Go away already, I don't have time for this!_

…

_Ah, screw it._

"Okay it was great meeting you gotta go see ya bye!"

Aine was already sprinting away before the sentence was halfway out her mouth, and she swiftly left the two bemused teens behind her.

At least, that had been the plan, until a familiar melody of clicks and whirrs behind her froze her in her tracks.

Her instinct recognized the music for what it meant, but her rational mind refused to believe it. But when she slowly turned around, not wanting to believe but not being able to stop herself from looking anyway, she saw what she already knew was there: the yellow car that had nearly run her over was standing up. And the two teenagers were not the least bit distressed by this. Well, not distressed in the expected sense anyway.

"What the hell are you DOING?? Dude, she's going to see you!"

The boy jumped in front of the car-turned-robot and wildly waved his hands over his head. Because he was so much more distracting than the almost twenty-foot yellow robot behind him.

"This isn't what it looks like! We're, uh, delivering a special effects car for a major motion action picture being filmed in California, right Mikki??"

'Mikki' slapped a hand over her eyes and groaned.

"Relax Sam, this is the girl we've been looking for," the yellow mech said, stepping around the boy and approaching the still frozen Aine. "She's practically saturated in trace amounts of energon radiation."

"'Saturated' in 'trace' amounts? Isn't that an oxymoron?" Mikki asked, tilted her head and putting a finger to her chin thoughtfully.

"You know what I mean." The bot was in front of her, masked face staring down at her. "She probably knows where Elita is."

In the ensuing split second, many thoughts raced through Aine's mind all at once.

Elita

Looking for Elita

No time

New guy

Strange guy

Strange car

Blue car

Big fight

Onslaught

Masks

Wants Elita

Kill Elita

Revenge for dead gestalt

Gestalt team

Revenge

Mask

Kill Elita

Danger  
Danger

Danger

"GET AWAY FROM ME!"

The yellow bot actually flinched back from the scream, and Aine took the opportunity to scuttle away and try to escape. But she didn't look where she was going, and within four steps she trip over a large rock and went flying, scraping herself even further. Heedless of the pain Aine tried to stand up and run forward all at once, but the delay was enough for the other bot to catch up and grab her around her middle, lifting her up as easily as a parent lifted a toddler by the back of their overalls. As soon as she was in the air, he scooped her in his other hand and held her gently but firmly with fingers too stubby and a palm too small.

Aine struggled in the metal grip so similar to Elita's yet so different and wrong, flailing and wiggling like a fish until the mech had to use both hands to keep his hold on her.

"Hey hold on, calm down before you hurt yourself. I'm not going to hurt you, I just want to talk."

(Liar liar they're deceivers it's in the name he'll help Onslaught kill Elita can't let them can't let them but what about me?)

"You're scaring her even worse!" the girl chastised. "Put her down already, can't you see she's terrified?"

"But if I put her down, she'll try to run away again," her captor reasoned, with a hint of apology.

(fear fear fear so scared can't escape going to fail everyone but I won't tell them where Elita is have to protect her right now but so scared scared scared chest hurts hurts I'm scared)

The boy was trying to say something, she could see his lips moving. But it was so hard to listen to him, he sounded far away, like his voice was being muffled by cotton in her ears.

"Hey, girl, ummm...Aine, right? Did I pronounce that right? Anyway, he's not gonna hurt you. He's completely harmless, nicest guy you'll ever meet."

"Yeah, but she don't know that. Can't blame her for freakin' out."

A new voice, this one male, different, but with a metallic undertone that betrayed inhuman origin. Wide-eyed, Aine watched the little silver car she hadn't even realized was there explode and transform in the exact same yet radically different manner as she had seen Elita and the yellow mech do, only this own added his own spin that she wasn't completely sure was strictly necessary. Not that she was in a frame of mind to criticize superfluous add-on. Instead, all she could car about was that the small silver mech with the visor –

(another mask another one of them oh god will never escape now gonna die here they'll try to make me talk but I don't want to die heart beating fast fast fast shaking trembling getting harder to breath so scared scared scared want to scream but can't no air can't breathe can't scream)

- was coming closer with the corner of his lips turned down in a disapproving frown.

"Toldja ya shouldn't'v done that," the silver newcomer said, circling around the girl and mech so as to get a better look without coming too close himself. "Look at her, she looks ready to faint dead away."

(dead dead gonna die here can't breathe just scream scream scream and help will come that there's not enough air)

"Maybe this was a bad idea after all," her captor admitted. "I'm really sorry Aine, but I need you to listen to me for a minute."

(my name knows my name doesn't matter have to scream it's the only way to survive but can't get the _air_ to scream scream scream)

"I'm going to put you down now, but…wait, are you alright?"

(scream scream screamscreamscreamscream-)

"Sam, she's not breathing normally…oh Primus, I think I broke her!!"

"What? Whaddya mean she's not breathing normally??"

"It's like she can't breathe! Jazz, you're the human expert, what should I do??"

(-screamscreamscreamscreamscreamscream-)

"Ah-aaah-aaaAAAAAAAAAAAA**AAAAAAAAAAA****AAAAAA****AAAAHHH-"**

* * *

Bumblebee recoiled from the high pitched and seemingly never ending scream the girl – who was hopefully Aine – was suddenly emitting. Jazz and the two kids had actually been taken aback, and Jazz had slapped his hands over his sensitive audios, which had been unable to recalibrate fast enough to the sudden auditory onslaught.

_Doesn't seem to be anything wrong with her breathing anymore_, Bumblebee thought, holding the red faced girl away from him with one hand, as if the extra two feet of distance would protect him.

What happened next, Bumblebee wouldn't be able to grasp until it was already over.

Out of nowhere a hand shot out and grabbed the wrist holding the girl, forcefully tugging him forward before he realized it was even there. The sudden jerk forces Bumblebee off balance and he steps forward to avoid falling. In the same instant he comes forward –

CRACK!

- Mr. Face gets a personal introduction to a Mr. Elbow. Bumblebees head snaps backwards and he feels the girl fall from his limp hand. As soon as she's gone, the scout goes from stumbling backwards to doubling over as someone knees jams itself _hard_ into his unprotected abdomen, which is immediately followed by another elbow to the back of his head, sending him falling face flat on the ground.

All together, it was over in less than three seconds, tops.

Bumblebee's first thought was, 'Ow.' Bumblebee's first coherent thought was 'what the slag was that??' His pain and budding embarrassment and anger morphed into slight fear and dread as he heard the familiar click of a gun, probably pointed at the back of his head and ready to blow his CPU to little bitty pieces.

Bumblebee's first thoughts went to Sam and Mikaela, out and vulnerable with only Jazz to protect them. Would Onslaught demand their surrender? Their compliance? Would he kill Sam as belated revenge for the death of Megatron? Jazz wouldn't risk the kids, he'll protect them, but he'll have to get away, leave Bumblebee behind. It was the only way he would be able to save them -

Wait

Why wasn't Jazz shooting, and WHY WAS HE LAUGHING??

"Bumblebee? Is that you?"

The speaker was not Jazz, and unless Onslaught had gotten his vocal processors changed for something more feminine and cultured, he was pretty sure it wasn't the Combaticon leader either. While it had been vorns since he last heard it, it was still nearly as familiar as Optimus'. He didn't need to look up to know who had just beat the living daylights out of him in four moves.

"Hi Elita."

* * *

Mikaela had imagined a dozen times over what meeting the Femme Commander would be like.

Bumblebee prostrate on the ground with a maniacally laughing Jazz and an embarrassed looking femme hadn't been one of them.

Mikaela stole a glance at Sam. The taller boy was trying to cover his grin and snorts of laughter out of respect for his downed friend, even covering up his mouth, but it was a losing battle as the laughter was still reaching his eyes.

"Bumblebee, my deepest apologies!" The tall red femme said, using the arm not currently holding the girl close to her chassis to help the Camero up. "I heard Aine, and…I do not know what came over me, I simply lost my senses. I had truly feared she and Nolan where in danger! Did I injure you?"

"Mostly just my pride." Bumblebee said, nursing the slight dent in his abdomen.

"Oh man! Oh Primus! That was PRICELESS! That was so worth the trip!" Jazz laughed, finally calming down a little. He grinned broadly up at Elita. "One o'the best "nice t'meet'cha's" I've ever seen outta ya, Elita."

"I'm so glad my misery makes you so happy," Bumblebee muttered darkly, and even Mikaela couldn't help but giggle. Jazz just descended into a new bout of laughter. Elita, meanwhile, turned her attention to Mikaela and Sam still standing a little awkwardly to the sides.

"It would seen proper introductions are going to be necessitated," Elita commented with a smile. But her expression hardened quickly. "However, we lack the time for them now. Aine, where is…Aine? Aine?!"

Elita's expression went from concerned to alarmed, and after coming closer Mikaela could see why. Even from the distance Mikaela could make out the pale, clammy skin, the sun glistineing off her sweat soaked forehead. Her chest was heaving but her breathes came short and quick, and she was trembling so violently she almost rattled against the metal body holding her.

It didn't take a doctor to realize something was very, very wrong.

"Aine, Aine, what is wrong?" Elita asked, cupping a hand around the girl's body. Elita looked up at Bumblebee. "What happened to her??"

Bumblebee shook his read rapidly. "I don't know! She started breathing oddly and it almost looked like she was choking, I think. She was just fine a few minutes ago, I swear!"

"I'm callin' Ratchet," Jazz said. "Maybe he'll know what's happenin'."

But Mikaela had been staring intently at the girl, and realized that her symptoms were very, very familiar.

"Put her down!" she shouted, holding her arms up. "Elita, give her to me. Everyone else, just calm down and back away. Jazz, don't bother with Ratchet, he won't be able to help."

"Do you know what this is?" Elita asked, obediently giving the girl over. Mikaela knelt to the ground, holding Aine close to herself like a mother, rubbing soothing circles on her back.

"Relax, she'll be fine when it's over. Just calm down and give her some space. You freak out, it'll only make it worse. Shhh, shhh, its okay baby, everything's okay, I'm right here…"

The bots and boy all gave Mikaela a wide circle.

"Is she having a heart attack?" Bumblebee ventured. Elita whipped her head around.

"What? Heart attack?"

"It's something I've read about online, after Sam's grandfather had a scare about a month ago. Aine's symptoms are identical to what I've read."

"How dangerous are they?" Elita demanded more than asked.

"I…people as young as Aine aren't supposed to get them, I don't think. It's almost always older people or people with preexisting heart conditions."

Elita recoiled backwards with the air of someone who had just realized something profound and shocking. Aine clutched Mikaela even more tightly, and the older girl shot Bumblebee a withering look.

"She's having a **panic **attack, not a heart attack! So would you stop freaking her own so she can calm down already??"

* * *

For an eternity time did not exist. There wasn't a past, a future, only the present and the tunnel of fear and panic that clouded her mind. She could hear voices, but they were far away and meant nothing to her. They were meaningless, she couldn't focus on them where her body was trembling and fighting against her so violently it threatened to fall apart. Even when her body was moved and she felt hard ground under her and warm, soft arms around her, it didn't matter. She just clutched the person like a drowning person clutches a scrap of wood in the middle of the storm after the ship has sunk.

But finally, finally, the end of the tunnel came, and the world slowly came back into focus, the voices penetrating her foggy mind as her breathing slowed and her trembles lessened. As she came down from the attack, she blinked and latched onto the first thing she was able to understand.

"Panic…attack? What's that?" She asked weakly, tiredly.

Her holder, the girl from before, was stroking her head. "This is your first one then? I'm not surprised, you're pretty young. Panic attacks are something that happens sometimes when a person is under a lot of stress or anxiety. Considering all you've been through the last couple of days, I bet all the stress has been building up and it just kinda…came out I guess, after Bumblebee picked you up. I'm really sorry about that, he means well, he was just afraid you'd run off and we'd lose you. I don't think he thought through that very well."

"Panic attacks?"

"Um, yeah. Kinda scary, since they feel almost exactly like heart attacks. But they're, well, I won't say 'harmless' because they suck so much, but they don't cause any lasting damage. Think of it as a really, really sucky way the mind and body deals with too much stress."

"Panic attacks? That's all they were? Just panic attacks?"

"Yeah I guess…wait, 'they' were? You've had these before, and you didn't know what they were?" The girl held her closer. "Oh you poor thing! This must have been terrifying for you!"

Aine limply let the girl hold her, her own expression completely blank.

Panic attacks? Aine had never even heard of them! But this girl talked about them like they were…like they were something normal, something lots of people went through.

She breathed out, and practically collapsed against the girl.

She felt as if the ground was shifting under her feet, but at the same time, she felt incredibly light. Was she happy? No, too much was going on for that. It was more like she had been carrying a huge boulder on her back because it was what she was supposed to, when out of the blue someone comes along and said 'no you don't.' It was…liberating and disconcerting at the same time.

"Aine."

Both girls craned their necks up to see the red femme hovering over them, concern clear on her expression. "Aine, are you feeling better?"

"Um, yeah, I guess so," she said. Of all the emotions she might expect to feel, embarrassment at having to showcase her "panic attack" wasn't one of them.

"Good. But Aine, I need you to tell me where Nolan is now."

Aine froze.

Oh god, panic attack or no, how could she have forgotten for even half a second??

She looked up at Elita, and the femme could already see the answer on her face. But…

"Is he hiding Aine?" She asked, getting down on one knee, hoping against hope her instinct was wrong. But Aine dashed those hopes when she shook her head.

"Nolan, he…I'm so sorry Elita, I couldn't find him in time!"

"What happened Aine?"

"He…he took him Elita! Onslaught took Nolan away!"

* * *

Aren't I evil? :)

Press the little center button and leave a review please. ^_^


	12. Ch 12 Course of Action

**AN**: Wow, when was the last time I had a chapter out so fast? This chapter came together surprisingly quickly, probably because there were so many scenes I had fun writing. By the end of it though, I'm probably going to have most of you hating me. ^_^

Something I forgot to mention last time: _Transformergirl_ on (also known as _Lnzy1_ right here on ) has kindly drawn a picture of Nolan and Aine together. Check my profile for the link. If you have a deviantart account yourself, be sure to shower her with lots of love!

BTW, you're going to come across mentions of a plane called a C-27K Spartan. It's not real, I made it up. But it's based on the C-27**J** Spartan (aren't I original?). I needed a plane just the right size for story purposes, but all the real ones were too big or too small. Yay creative license! :)

**Disclaimer**: Inspiration came from "Twin Times the Fun" by Ray of Starlight. Far as I know, Hasbro still has the rights to Transformers, and Michael Bay, the movie. But if we all ask really nicely, maybe they'll let us keep them.

* * *

Chapter 12 – Course of Action

_Aine scrambled across the rocks as fast as safely possible, eyes glued to the ground searching for any and all tennis shoe prints her brother had left behind. Nearly ten minutes had gone by, and still no Nolan._

Just how far did you go??_ She thought irritably. She jogged up a small incline, hoping to see her brother on the other side. Bonus points if he was done with his pity party!_

_Something monstrously huge unfurled with a groan and towered over her._

_Aine skidded to a halt and stared up at the visage of Onslaught in abject terror, too frozen to move, to scream, to even think beyond _my god I'm going to die_. When the Decepticon focused his red visor on her, Aine felt like the rabbit caught in the wolfs gaze, desperately hoping that so long as she kept absolutely still, the beast would not be able to find her. _

_Onslaught raised a giant arm, and Aine stumbled backwards, raising her arms over her head in futile defense. But all he did was point to the ground beside him. _

"_Bring Elita One here. Tell her if she does not follow my instructions to the letter, the human will suffer for it."_

_Only then did Aine perceive what was in Onslaughts other hand: Nolan's limp form dangling in his grasp, eyes closed._

"_The human still lives," Onslaught said when Aine cried out in horror. He brought Nolan over at Aine's eye level and opened his hand, so that Aine could clearly see his chest moving up and down. Onslaught curled his fingers around the body and pulled him away. "But only for so long as Elita does as she is instructed."_

_Onslaught took one step back for more room, sending small tremors Aine felt through her legs, before bending down and folding into himself, tucking Nolan within his bulk as he transformed into the massive six-wheeled GILA. _

_With a roar of engine Onslaught turned and rolled away, each wheel rolling independently over obstructions like they weren't even there. _

_Aine felt her body vibrate with tremors, her head feeling light and her chest hollow, as if the delayed physical reactions made them that much more intense. She just stood there, still frozen in place, for several seconds, until reality snapped back into place._

Oh god…he has Nolan! I have to get Elita!

_With a quick, last look at the direction Onslaught took and the area she was in to commit both to memory, she ran back the way she came as fast as she could, heedless of the sharp rocks and brambles that scratched at her bare legs. She nearly tripped twice in her haste, but both times she regained her balance at the last minute and just kept running. The minor pain and risk of injury was nothing! So long as she found Elita before Onslaught could hurt Nolan, nothing else mattered!_

* * *

"…but when I tried to cross the road, I kinda ran into Bumblebee instead. Turn left up here, it should be straight ahead."

Elita followed Aine's instructions, holding the girl out in front of her like a compass. Behind her came Jazz and Bumblebee, with Sam and Mikaela dogging their steps.

"What kind of alt mode does Onslaught have?" Jazz asked. Aine frowned as she tried to remember what Nolan had called it the first time they had met the Decepticon, but Elita (and her much better memory) beat her too it.

"Nolan had called it a GILA."

Jazz and Bumblebee's optics both dimmed momentarily as they searched the internet for the relevant information. Jazz let out a whistle.

"Now I'm really wonderin' how Onslaught got so far without anyone sendin' up red flags. That thing's huge."

"A mystery for a later time," Elita said. Aine pointed.

"Over there, on the other side of that little hill, that's where I saw them."

Elita crested the incline, with Jazz and Bumblebee stopping short on either side of her. Six sets of eyes, three human and three not, looked down at what Onslaught had left behind.

An area about four feet wide and three feet long had been swept clear of debris, and in its place were several lines of alien glyphs, thick but carefully written. Or rather, there was one line of distinctive glyphs, and several lines under that of a different sort.

For several seconds, no one said anything.

"So…what does it say?" Sam finally ventured.

Bumblebee glanced at Elita as if asking for permission before he responded. "The first line is a set of coordinates for a location far north of here. The rest is a message to Elita. He's telling her to be at the location at exactly seventeen hundred hours local time, and that she is to come alone. If she tries anything, anything at all, he will-" Bumblebee briefly paused before continuing, "-Nolan will suffer for it."

It was easy to guess that the threat had been judiciously edited for the human audience, but no one wanted to press him on it. Mikaela still muttered 'oh my god,' and sought Sam's hand with her own.

Aine gasped when Elita's fingers, originally curled up to prevent her from slipping off the smooth palm, twitched and sharply arched like daggers around the girl. Aine heard something clicking whirring behind her, and she looked back to see what. When she did, she quailed.

Elita's shoulders were hitched up, her head lowered, optics narrowed and lips pressed tight, focusing on the message with enough intensity to set the scant vegetation aflame. This close to the femme, Aine could see the concentric rings in her optics spin, whine, and click together as some mechanisms came online while others locked into place, the rich blue glow fading until it was nearly white.

Aine had seen her gentle friend fight and be angry.

But never before had the femme looked so _murderous_.

"Elita?"

No reaction. Aine wasn't even sure she had been heard.

A distant thunder snapped everyone's attention northward. The thundering explosion died away, and could have almost been mistaken for a natural sound, except that the sky was completely clear.

Elita's fingers curled even more around the poor girl. Without warning Elita bent and neatly dropped Aine next to Sam and Mikaela at Bumblebee's feet. Before the girl could even steady herself, Elita ran two steps down the slope and transformed in midstride, tires squealing and kicking up sand with enough force to pepper the humans nearly fifteen feet behind and above her, before roaring away in the direction of the explosion and Onslaught.

"Aw frag," Jazz muttered, before likewise following with a "Stay with the kids Bee!" over his shoulder. He squealed away right over Onslaughts message just as Elita had, pushing himself as fast as he could go before the Femme Commander could get too large a lead on him. This time the kids were able to cover their face and heads from the second sandy downpour.

Stunned silence hung over the little group as the roaring engines faded in the distance. Sam summed it up nicely.

"That is one pissed off lady."

* * *

Sports cars, Jazz quickly learned, were not meant to go off-roading. Jazz couldn't help but cringe when a particularly large rock bounced off his more sensitive under carriage – again. Not to mention, the uneven terrain and sharp dips were murder on his shocks. He could hear something groan as he thumped at the bottom of a dried out river bed and shot back up over the steep wall on the other side. Sure, Jazz wasn't _exactly_ like a human built car, but even his special designs and improved engineering could only compensate for so much abuse! But that wasn't even the hardest part.

The hardest part was keeping up with the insane pace Elita had set for herself and her as-of-yet-unnoticed pursuer. The femme was pit-bent on catching up with Onslaught _right now_, getting Nolan back, and reducing the 'con to a little pile of loose nuts and bolts. But because maybachs and solstice's weren't meant to handle such uneven terrain, every few minutes Elita would have to transform and jump, run, or scale over whatever obstacle presented itself to her. Go around? Not if it meant losing 2.3 seconds! And poor old Jazz was forced to follow her nearly move for move just to keep her in his sights.

He had NO idea how the luxury car she had picked for her alt. mode was able to handle all the abuse. Actually, it probably couldn't.

Jazz tried pinging Elita's comm., but all he got was static. There was no indication that Elita could even hear him _trying_ – not that he'd put it past her to just ignore him at this point. So failing that, Jazz tried the next best thing: yelling as loudly as his vocal processors would allow.

"HEY ELITA! HOW 'BOUT SLOWIN' DOWN A LITTLE BEFORE YOU KNOCK YOUR OWN ENGINE OUT?"

Elita vaulted over a fallen pillar and transformed again before she even hit the ground and blatantly ignored him.

What a shock.

"Frag it Elita, I know you're mad and worried, but this ain't gonna work! Wouldja just calm down and **stop **already??"

Elita hit the brakes and skidded to a halt so abruptly Jazz had to turn into a slide just to keep from plowing into her. Almost instantly, Jazz saw why.

Onslaughts energon radiation trail had led them to a pass with high walls. But the entrance was blocked by a tremendous rock slide that filled it almost entirely. At the top, Jazz could see the remnants of the bases of a large arch that had once spanned across the top of the pass, and now contributed heavily to the blockage.

Now they knew what that explosion from earlier was for.

"Well ain't this a kick in the head," Jazz commented as he and Elita both transformed. "So now we - HEY!"

Out of nowhere Elita pounced up as high up the wall as she could jump and was scrambling upwards with the ferocity and determination of a rabid cat, rocks and pebbles being pulled loose and raining down in her wake.

This did not bode well for the stability of the wall.

"Hey! HEY!" Jazz called out worriedly. "Please tell me you don't need me to tell you that's not-"

The jutting rock serving as Elita's handhold gave way under her weight, sending the femme tumbling down backwards on top of Jazz with a resounding CLASH!

"-safe. Oi, ow, that's gonna hurt in the mornin'. You a'ight Elita? HEY!"

Without so much as an apology, Elita shoved off of Jazz and attacked the rock wall with renewed vigor.

_Okay, this is gettin' ridiculous_, Jazz thought. He grabbed Elita's arm and tried to pull her back off the wall, only to have the femme rip her arm away almost instantly.

_Uh uh Elita. You ain't shakin' me off that easily!_

Jazz activated the powerful electromagnets in his hands and grabbed Elita's arm again in a two-handed grip. This time, when she tried to pull away, she dragged Jazz forward a step but he didn't let go.

"Unhand me Jazz!"

"Really sorry 'bout this Elita, but that's not gonna happen."

"I am your ranking officer. I order you to release me at once!"

"You outrank me, sure, but I answer t' Prime. You can't order me t' do anything here."

"I will not allow Onslaught to get away with this!"

"He already has, Elita!"

The twenty two foot femme loomed over the sixteen foot mech. "Only because you insist on halting me," she growled in a dangerously low voice. "Unhand me now Jazz, before I make you."

"I've no doubt you'd do that," Jazz said, nonplussed. "Mad as you are, I wouldn't even put it past ya t' go rock climbin' with me danglin' off your back if ya had to…right before ya fall off that dangerously unstable slope and crack your spinal strut in half."

Elita glowered down at the First Lieutenant. Jazz hurried on before she got mad enough to cut his hands off at the wrists.

"You're lettin' your emotions get t'ya Elita! Think about this for a minute: ya can't go over that rock slide without killin' yourself, it'll take hours t' go around this pass, and even if ya managed to magically jump over the slaggin' thing, you'll never be able to catch up to Onslaught anyway.

"Onslaughts alt mode is an all terrain vehicle. He can plow through and over all this," Jazz waved a hand around to indicate the landscape and quickly clamped it back, "like it was nothin'. But we don't have that luxury. The terrains too rough to drive all the way, you're not fast enough on foot, an' if ya keep up this insane transform-every-thirty-steps-or-so trick of yours, you're not gonna be able to even _stand_ by the time you catch up, IF you manage to at all. I bet your systems are already runnin' hot, right? Frag it, I'M barely holdin' on as it is. How much longer 'till all of yours are in the red?"

Elita kept glaring, but she didn't deny Jazz's estimation. He nodded knowingly.

"I figured as much.

"Face it Elita; Onslaught won this round. We've gotta be smarter now if we're gonna get Nolan back safe."

Elita silently fumed, looking torn between listening to reason and just shooting Jazz's head off.

Her hand twitched, clenched, and with a frustrated yell she slammed it violently into the rock wall, embedding her fist as cracks spread outwards from the impact like a spider web. Small rocks and pebbles dislodged by the force rained down on their heads with pitter-patter clacks. Jazz didn't even flinch.

Elita closed her optics as she vented out hot air. Finally, she tugged her fist out of wall and slowly brought it to rest across her chassis, hand on her shoulder. When she opened her optics again, they still weren't as rich a shade of blue as they should have been, but they weren't nearly white hot anymore either.

"I understand," Elita conceded, her tone now lacking the threat of imminent bodily harm. "What would you suggest then, Jazz?"

Jazz released Elita's arm, now that he was reasonably certain she wasn't going to run off again. "First off, we'd better t' Bumblebee and the kids. Whatever we do next, they're gonna have t' hear it too."

"Very well. Let us walk back. It will give our systems a chance to cool down after this…exertion."

* * *

BANG! "You goddamn -" BANG! "- lowlife -" BANG! "- son of a bitch coward!" BANG! "Let me go or I'll chew out your upholstery and use your wires to make baskets!"

Onslaught grunted slightly as the human turned his attention from the metal walls to the softer seats, his ferocious kicks becoming more painful as they rained hard down on the circuitry and wiring hidden within said seats. The human had regained consciousness a few minutes ago, and after realizing where he was and what must have happened, almost immediately he flew into a rage, attacking his interior with the rage and ferocity of a berserker. Except for when the boy's random flailing landed on the softer seats, it was largely ineffectual.

Truth be told, Onslaught had at first found the boys reaction mildly interesting. He had seen it before, usually in young Autobot soldiers he and his gestalt had cornered or captured. Fear would be channeled into anger and aggression, turning them into far fiercer fighters and more dangerous adversaries. It was a reaction the Decepticons had encouraged in their new recruits and front-liners. Fear could paralyze, but anger could motivate action, even if all you could do was beat against the walls and yell obscenities.

The similarity was almost fascinating, in its own way.

But the interest quickly turned into annoyance. The fighting spirit was almost admirable in a soldier, but in a prisoner – particularly _his_ prisoners - it got very old, very fast.

Onslaught banked a sharp turn that sent the human falling flat on his aft with an undignified yelp.

"My patience is running thin, human," he growled, his voice reverberating against the walls of his own interior. "Cease your useless actions now, before I make you."

The human glared toward the front. "What were you expecting, me to be the good little hostage? I've been kidnapped, I'm being held hostage, I've got a goose egg the size of a frigging football on my head thanks to you, and I know you're going to somehow use me to get to Elita. Forgive me for being completely pissed off! Oh, and just so you know, there's no way in hell I'm going to let you do anything to Elita!"

"YOU won't be doing anything, and if you do not shut off whatever you have that passes for a vocal processor off, I WILL make you regret it."

The young male snorted. "What're you gonna do, yell at me? You're too big to do much without killing me, and if you lose me you lose your leverage."

"You are alive now because there is a possibility that you will be more useful as such rather than dead," Onslaught said in a silky, dangerous voice. "But I don't need you alive to control Elita. I only need her to believe you're alive."

The human froze, and Onslaught was mildly interested to see that his had become a shade or two lighter in color.

He stood, and Onslaught tensed, ready to throw the boy to the floor again if need be. But all he did was gingerly sit in one of the seats and taking up as little space as possible. Whether this was out of fear or distaste was hard to say. But, judging from the boy's expression and notable lack of little biological fear tellers, the Decepticon was leaning towards the latter. Not that it really mattered either way.

The boy turned and looked out the narrow window, narrowing his eyes as he took in the passing landscape. Onslaught could see the gears turning in his head, taking in everything with a calculated look.

_Already planning an escape? _Onslaught thought, amused_. Your spirit would almost be admirable, if I hadn't been so certain it was due more to stupidity._

_Or, perhaps you simply do not yet understand just how trapped you already are. _

* * *

Aine paced back and forth, chewing her thumbnail and alternating between glancing northward and at the yellow mech standing a little off to the side. Sam and Mikaela, as they had introduced themselves, were sitting on the ground in Bumblebee's shade, who stood over them all keeping a lookout but mostly just waiting like everyone else. Conversations had been started several times, but each attempt would survive a comment or too before it withered and died, everyone too nervous for focus for long on anything else, yet not wanting to talk about what they _were_ all wondering lest they jinx it.

Bumblebee's head snapped around, grabbing the attention of the humans.

"They're coming back," the scout informed them. "On foot, apparently."

Everyone was now standing side by side on top of the slope and straining eyes and ears to see them. Sure enough, they could see two figures shining brightly as the sun danced across their shiny metal bodies. It actually hurt to look at them for more than a few seconds, the refraction was so strong.

Aine waited with nervous enter, wringing her hands as she seesawed between hope and dread. When Elita finally got to them, she looked at the girl, only to look away. Aine slumped. Nolan wasn't with them, and Elita couldn't look at her. Onslaught had gotten away, and he still had her brother.

Aine eyes burned as she felt tears of frustration pricking at the edges, and the fear that threatened to well up and swallow her heart whole. She heard shifting movement, and she looked up to see Elita bending down a little to look her in the eye. With Aine on top of the slope and Elita standing at the bottom, Aine was almost level with the femmes shoulder.

"Aine, listen to me: I promise you, no matter what happens, I _will_ bring Nolan back."

Aine met Elita's earnest look before nodding a little.

"I figured you would…but thank you anyway."

"So…what do we do now?" Sam asked.

Elita looked at Jazz. "My navigation computer was badly damaged upon my landing, along with my communications and ability to tap into the human's World Wide Web. Where, exactly, does Onslaught wish us to meet?"

Jazz touched the side of his head corresponding with the human temple as his visor raised, revealing blue optics just like Elita's and Bumblebee's. His optics flashed brightly once before shooting out beams of light that, to the astonishment of his human audience, solidified into a 3D hologram: a large, topographical green grid map of Utah, spinning slowly around to give everyone a clear view of the map at every angle.

Actually, only Aine was astonished. Sam and Mikaela were significantly less impressed.

"We're about here," a tiny red Autobot symbol appeared in about the middle of the southern section. "An' Onslaught wants to meetcha...here," a purple Decepticon symbol appeared much further north, at the mouth of a valley.

Elita frowned as she studied the map. "It will take hours to drive all that way. Onslaught means to wear me out before the fight even begins."

Sam raised a hand. "Wait a sec; doesn't he have to drive all that way too?"

"Onslaughts all-terrain alt. mode can take a straighter, shorter path than the ones available to me," Elita explained. "But he too will have to push himself. I do not know why he chose such a relatively distant location."

Jazz tapped his temple, and the image zoomed a little onto the purple spot. Another tap, another zoom. He repeated this twice more until he had zoomed in close enough for every one to get a good look at the designated battle site itself. When they did, there were several groans.

The location was isolated, far enough from human activity to avoid drawing attention so long as no one set off an atomic bomb or what have you. The spot itself was a large, bowl shaped depression several hundred feet across. The only way to get there from the south was through a narrow pass exiting from the valley, a pass that could easily be observed by anyone standing across from it.

The meadow was wide, open, and offered no protection or cover. There were tall trees that lined it, but they were thick and closely placed, too closely for someone Elita's size to move through easily. They would be more than adequate to impede any attempt at escape and would only leave her vulnerable to an easy shot in the back.

"It's a box," Bumblebee noted grimly. "He's planning on boxing you in to make you an easy target. Primus, this has 'trap' written all over it in neon letters."

"If I am to get Nolan back, I will have to spring it." Elita said, with equal gravity.

"Can't you go around and get behind Onslaught or something?" Aine asked.

"That would take too much time; I would not be able to reach the location for an additional several hours. Besides, Onslaught will kill Nolan as soon as he suspects anything is amiss."

Aine flinched, but said nothing more.

"In any case, we have little time," Elita went on as Jazz shut off the hologram. "Jazz or Bumblebee, I need one of you to help me repair my comm., at least so I can engage in short range communication. That way, we will be able to continue this discussion as we drive."

Jazz raised his hand. Elita raised an optic ridge.

"Are you volunteering for the repairs?"

"Actually, I just wanted to mention that we don't actually have to _drive_ all the way there. Optimus got a plane on standby for us, just in case."

"He did?" Elita's head jerked back slightly in surprise. "How large is it?"

"Well, he was shootin' for a monster of a plane that could carry the five of us plus you, but turns out gettin' one quietly wasn't going to happen on such short notice. But he did manage to kick the humans military into scrounging up somethin' called an C-27K Spartan. Only has a payload of about 19,000 pounds though, which will be fine for the three of us and the humans. Not so much for getting Prime, Ironhide, AND Ratchet out here for back up though."

Elita tilted her head to the side in thought. "You believe we will need them all?"

"Need them? Probably not. But they're all gonna want t' come out here anyway; Price 'cause you're here, Ratchet to make sure you're in one piece, and Ironhide for the chance to blow slag up."

Elita laughed. "That is true. The plane will be able to bring us all close to the meeting place and save us all time and energy. However, at 19,000 pounds it will not be able to carry myself, one of you, and either Optimus, Ratchet, or Ironhide, would it?"

Bumblebee slumped a little as he ran the numbers. "No, it wouldn't. So you either go with us, or go one ally short."

"Hey, hold on, can't the plane just make a couple of return trips so they can send the whole army?" Mikaela asked.

"An army cannot save Nolan now, Mikaela. This will require a more…delicate touch. Bringing everyone here, then there, would only be a waste of time and energy. I would prefer them to stay at the base and save themselves the trip."

"Well, we're not gonna be able to stop Ratchet from comin' out here," Jazz said brightly. "Primus knows he'd want to have a look at'cha before you went off on a suicide mission. Frankly, ya probably really need it by now."

Aine frowned in confusion, but when she took a second to really look at Elita compared to the mechs, she nearly reeled back in shock.

She had been too distracted up until now to notice, but now that she was really looking, at Elita, she could tell that the femme was…well, to say 'an absolute mess' would be too strong, but it was clear she had seen better days. She was covered in nicks, scratches, a few dents, traces of dirt, and a couple of weld jobs in places where the cracks had been too large. Even her optics didn't glow as brightly as the mechs, though they were hardly dim. Compared to the almost pristine Jazz and Bumblebee (though the formers finish had been tarnished a bit by the impromptu desert drive), Elita looked…she looked…

_Good grief, she looks exhausted!_ Aine thought in shock. The only reason Aine hadn't realized this before was that it was a lot harder to see the strain in a car than in a person, at least for Aine anyway.

"…I would say there is no need, but that would be a waste of effort, wouldn't it?" Elita said dryly. Jazz grinned.

"Probably. Actually, Prime could probably come-"

"No!"

Jazz's optics flashed off and on in a blink. Everyone else was equally puzzled, and Sam and Mikaela discreetly exchanged glances with Bumblebee.

Aine took a few steps forward and pressed her small hands against Elita's calf. "Don't you want to see Optimus again? I'm sure he really wants to see you."

Elita lowered her head a little, a pained expression flashing across her face.

"It…it is not that I do not…that is, I…"

"S'alright Elita, we understand," Jazz said gently. "He will too, I'm sure."

Elita was visibly relieved. Aine was just confused. She looked over her shoulder at the other two humans. Sam looked equally perplexed, as did Mikaela. Suddenly Mikaela's eyes widened in understanding, and she pulled Sam's shoulder down a little so she could whisper in his ear. After a few seconds, comprehension passed across Sam's face too. Aine just frowned in irritation, because she herself was still in the dark.

Why would Elita want to wait, she wondered. She KNEW how much Elita cared about Optimus, how much she missed him. Even if Elita had never out right admitted her feelings, Aine had been able to pick them up like neon signs just from the way Elita spoke of him, how she talked more about Optimus than about anyone else. Why would she rather see him later instead of _right now_ when –

Oh.

Because right now, Nolan was in danger. Right now, Elita was getting ready to walk into a fight with the deck stacked against her. Right now, there was uncertainty, danger, a mission, and risk. In a practical sense, Elita needed to focus all her attention on this immediate issue first and foremost.

On a personal level, these were no conditions to celebrate a long awaited reunion with someone you love, no matter how badly you wanted it.

_But doesn't she at least want a chance to talk to him again case she doesn't-_

Aine immediately stopped that train of that. That was a possibility she wasn't anywhere near ready to contemplate.

"What about Ironhide at least?" Bumblebee tried, and with a smile in his eyes added "Primus knows he's practically an army all by himself, and he'd be more than happy to prove it."

Elita chuckled in good humor. "Then I will have no choice but to disappoint him. Were I to take Ironhide, it would only be him and myself. Besides, I do not need excessive firepower. All I need..."

Elita put a hand on Jazz and Bumblebee's shoulders in camaraderie.

"…is the two of you and your exceptional skills."

"Does this mean you have a plan?" Bumblebee asked hopefully.

Elita's smile turned into a grin. "I just might."

* * *

The military base was a good 45 minute drive away, and due to Elita's still busted comm. (which, as it turned out, was too badly damaged for anyone to fix on the spot), communications between the three Autobots, and by extension their respective humans, was put on hold until they got there. If all went well, their plane would be landing a little after they arrived.

After that, Elita suspected that future chances for private conversations would range from rare to non-existent.

"May I ask a question?" she asked the girl. Aine, as per habit, turned her head to speak to the radio.

"Um, sure."

"Those 'panic attacks.' Was that the secret you were referring to yesterday?"

Aine looked slightly ashamed. "Yeah, actually. Except I didn't know they were just panic attacks, and that they weren't actually life threatening or whatever. I've never heard of them before, and I never talked to anyone about it."

"Because you did not wish to inconvenience anyone, correct?"

Aine made a one shoulder shrug. "Sort of, I guess. I kept thinking 'it's just this one time, it'll go away.'"

"Why did you not wish to talk to anyone about this? You could have saved yourself a great deal of stress and worry."

Aine starting playing with her fingers. "I guess it was because I was afraid it would change everything. Life with Dad and Nolan, it wasn't perfect, but I was used to it. I could handle it. But Dad and Nolan were butting heads almost all the time, and I was afraid what would happen if something changed. Our life wasn't exactly perfect, but it could have been a lot worse. We had a home, we were taken care of, and I knew how it all worked. I didn't want to change that."

"So you were afraid to upset the balance?"

Aine brightened and nodded vigorously. "Right! Yes, that's exactly it! It was just easier on everyone not to say anything. Besides, Mikaela said that panic attacks don't cause any lasting damage, they just really suck. So it's not like I was in any danger."

"But you thought you were."

The smile faded. "But, I wasn't, not really..."

"Aine, you sincerely believed your heart was damaged or that you were in danger of dying with any of these attacks, did you not?"

At Aine's reluctant nod, Elita went on. "You are a generous, kind, self-sacrificing person, Aine. These are your strengths, and they are rare, precious qualities in a person of any species. But there is such a thing as being _too_ self-sacrificing. Primus knows I get enough of that from Optimus."

Aine actually giggled a little.

"You are so used to letting Nolan take the lead, you have not learned to speak up for yourself as much as you need to," Elita went on. "The people who care about you want to help you. You need not bear all your burdens alone."

Aine titled her head in thought. "This sounds kind of familiar…"

Internally, Elita smiled. "As it should. We talked about this last night."

"Oh. Right. Makes a lot more sense now, actually. So, I guess this means I need to speak up more, be more assertive, huh?"

"People want to hear from you Aine. You need not fear being heard."

"I can do that, I guess. I can try, anyway."

"I am glad to hear it. Other than all that, how are you doing?"

"Um, fine, I guess." She rubbed the new scabs on her legs. "The scratches on my legs don't hurt any more or anything."

"That is good, but that was not what I was referring to. A great deal has happened in a very short time, and you have learned…unpleasant truths in the midst of it. How are you doing?"

Aine slumped in her seat. "I…honestly, I don't know. I mean…"

She stuck her hands in her hair as if trying to hold the thoughts in place. "…it's like, it's like it's not real yet, you know? I can't wrap my mind around it all. I mean, in my head, I know it's real, but it hasn't sunk it yet as being _real_. I'm sorry, I'm not making any sense, am I?"

"No Aine, I understand what you are saying."

Aine let her hands fall to her lap again. "I think I'm going to need a lot more time before its all real, you know? I just can't think about it right now, not until Nolan's back." Aine's voice cracked a little, and her eyes were already filling up with liquid.

"We WILL bring Nolan back safely." Elita soothed. Aine wiped her eyes.

"The last thing I said," she said, almost crying, "was that he was even worse than Dad. Nolan hates Dad, so it was like I said I hated him too. That was the last thing I said to him Elita!"

"But it will not be the last thing you _ever _say to him," Elita said firmly, brooking no argument. "When you see him next, you will be able to say what you need to say. Harsh words were exchanged, by him and by you. They need not have been so painful, but they were words that needed to be said.

"The two of you will never be quite the same. But now you can grow as two people instead of one."

Aine blinked rapidly at the radical new concept. She scratched her head. "This…is a very dense heart to heart talk."

Elita burst out in merry laughter, and Aine couldn't help but smile along.

"So it is," Elita chuckled. "I apologize if I am throwing too much at you at once."

"No, no, it's fine. I'm glad we talked about all this. It feels good to get this off my chest with someone who gets it."

"I am glad to be of service," Elita said in good humor. "Be ready Aine, we are approaching the base now."

Aine instantly straightened in her seat. Intellectually, she knew they were okay, but as Elita drove up to the military checkpoint guarding the entrance, she couldn't restrain the butterflies in her stomach. She'd seen the movies too, and very rarely was mixing the military with aliens a good thing.

Her anxiety wasn't helped when she realized something very, very bad.

"Um, Elita? Why are we going in first?"

"I am the highest ranking officer present. Protocol dictates that I lead, followed by Jazz, then Bumblebee."

"So who's going to talk to the gate guy? Jazz said he's not in the know."

"That task, I leave to you."

Aine's stress indicators jumped through the roof. "Excuse me??"

"You need only remember what Jazz said, and you will be fine."

"And you don't think a fourteen year old girl trying to get into the military base is a little odd maybe??"

"You admitted yourself you needed to learn to speak up more and be more assertive." Elita was sounding far too happy about this.

"As a general concept!" Aine exclaimed in a high pitched voice. "Something to work on in the future, not right this second!"

"But what is the purpose of a resolution if you are not ready to act upon it?"

"I dislike you intensely right now," Aine managed to hiss out just as the window lowered. The army man leaned out the booth window, only to jerk back in visible surprise when he saw the 'driver.'

"How old are you?" was the first thing out of his mouth. Aine repressed the urge to roll her eyes.

"Never mind that," the soldier went on quickly. "Miss, you're going to have to turn around. This is a restricted area, especially right now."

"Um, yeah but…my name is Aine O'Connell, and I'm supposed to be here."

The man gave her a hard look. Aine wanted to shrink back, the apology already dancing behind her lips, but she forced herself to meet his look with her unwavering one.

"Call up Colonel Riley if you don't believe me," Aine said smoothly. "But there's a C-27K Spartan that'll be landing in a few minutes with priority cargo and high level security. As I recall, aside from pilot and crew only a handful of people have clearance to this party, including myself-"

Aine waved a hand back to indicate to two cars behind her.

"-and my associates, Samuel Witwicky and Mikaela Banes."

The young soldier gave Aine an odd look, which she coolly met. The man stepped back into the booth, and Aine could see him checking what was probably a list of names laying on the counter. A few seconds later he whipped his head around and stared at Aine in open shock.

"Colonel Riley, you said?"

She gave him a pleasant smile and held up the cell phone Mikaela had lent her for just-in-case situations. Flipping it open she said "I could call him up myself, if you're not comfortable doing it yourself that is."

"No, no, that won't be necessary," the young man said. Aine was reasonably certain she heard him mutter 'this is insane' before the black and yellow bar blocking their way was lifted up.

"Thank you!" Aine chirped as Elita drove away, Jazz and Bumblebee close behind.

Aine started giggling as a sense of euphoria she'd never felt before coursed through her. It felt like it was filling her entire body from her toes to her head.

"I can't believe I just did that!" she squealed.

"You did very well Aine," Elita praised warmly, pride evident in her voice. "You were confidant, assertive, and you did not back down. I am very proud of you."

Aine smiled, still a little shy with the praise, but too giddy and happy to feel overly humble about it.

"I didn't think I could do it," she admitted. "For all the two seconds I was allowed to think about it anyway. Heck, the only reason I pulled it off at all is because I wasn't trying to lie or hide anything, not really."

Aine looked thoughtfully at the cell phone. "Except for the call the colonel bit. I have no idea what his number is."

Elita laughed.

Aine lightly kicked her under the steering wheel. "I still intensely dislike you for blindsiding me with that," she warned.

"You have my sincere apologies then," Elita said glibly.

* * *

"Hey Bee?"

"Yes Sam?"

"Quick question."

"Shoot."

"Wouldn't it have made more sense for Mikaela or me to talk to the guy? I mean, we don't exactly look like Army Rangers either, but at least we're not cute 12 year old girls."

"Aine taking that duty was partially by default as Elita's charge. Since Elita One is the highest ranking officer among us, it's only fitting she take the lead. It just so happened that Aine was the one with her."

"So no could have said 'hey, you know what, let's let Sam talk to the gate guy!' or whatever?"

"Well, yes, we could have. But I suspect Elita had her own agenda for having Aine take this role."

"Ooookay then. Well, we're inside and no one's shooting at us, so she must have done something right."

* * *

The three cars rolled across the tarmac towards the plane parked in the middle of the empty runway, its nose pointed towards them and to the right, its engines just dying down. A handful of officers were standing around as if waiting for something.

From the back, a ramp lowered and as soon as it touched pavement a greenish colored search and rescue hummer rolled out. The hummer turned sharply to face the maybach, solstice, and camaro, and all four rolled to a stop with about fifteen feet between them.

Elita's door popped open, as did Jazz's and Bumblebee's. Aine shaded her eyes from the bright sun as she stepped out, but kept a worried eye on the plane crew and soldiers still standing a respectful distance away.

"Relax kid, they're on our side," a deep, male voice with distinctive metallic undertones said, and Aine nearly jumped out of her skin. Elita chuckled.

"It has been a long time, hasn't it Ratchet?" She said in pleasant greeting.

"Certainly has, Elita. A long time indeed."

As if acting on an unseen signal, all four cars transformed. Aine found herself transfixed as four unique cars became four unique individuals, no two changing in quite the same manner as the others.

_No matter how many times I see that, it's always going to be unbelievably cool,_ she realized.

The green hummer – Ratchet – held up his forearm in front of him and flexed his hand down once. From the side of his wrist a green light shot out and widened into a flat plane that scanned Elita up and down her full length, which the femme bore gamely. Aine frowned. It seemed a little rude to just do that without asking. He could have at least warned her.

"Turn around slowly," Ratchet instructed, keeping his eyes down to a small holographic display also emanating from his wrist. Elita did so, even holding her arms out a little to give Ratchet a better look.

"Well, preliminary scans don't show anything life-threatening. But I'm still going to need to do a full diagnostic before anything. If nothing else, I can get your fragging comm. fixed already."

"There's an empty hanger you guys can use, if you want," one of the soldiers mentioned. Judging from the smart outfit and the big, colorful striped badge pinned over his heart, Aine was guessing this was Colonel Riley.

"Thank you Captain Rochester."

Or not.

* * *

"Frag it Elita, were you trying to crack your armor?? One good blow and it would have shattered, probably leaving little shards in all your seams and tearing your inner wiring apart!"

"You don't say," Elita deadpanned.

"Slag it, would it be too much to ask for a patient that wasn't trying to actively off-line themselves?!

"Quite possibly. At least I am not the twins."

"And thank Primus for that."

Currently everyone was spread out in the empty hanger in various positions of repose, with Ratchet on one knee behind Elita as he worked on the back of her shoulder, where her shoulder blade would have been had she been human. Elita herself was sitting with her feet tucked beneath her and leaning forward slightly to give Ratchet better access.

Elita had one hand up as well, partially holding a tool kit but mostly ready to catch the seventeen year old girl straddling her shoulder as she attempted to repair the comm. in the side of her head, mostly ready to catch the girl in case she slipped off.

Having Mikaela take that job had been Ratchets idea ("It'll be good practice and she can't kill you if she messes up"), though Elita herself had been slightly wary about it. But, she trusted Ratchets judgment, and Jazz vouched for Mikaela's skills with great enthusiasm.

"Relax Elita, girls' already had lotsa practice puttin' bots back t'gether," he asserted merrily. "She's already better than some nurses I knew back on Cybertron."

"Can I assume you were the one who provided her the most chances to practice?" Elita asked humorously.

"Hey, she helped put me back t'gether after Megatron tore me in half."

"What??"

"Funny story that, remind me to tell ya about it later."

After that, Elita had lifted Mikaela with her toolbox/Autobot medical kit to her shoulder and bore the twin treatments (mostly) quietly, Mikaela singing softly under her breath and Ratchet grumbling.

Aine frowned, and twisted around to look up at Jazz from her cross legged seat on the concrete floor. "Is it really okay for Ratchet to talk to her like that? Everyone keeps talking about how she's the highest ranking…person here. Isn't that, well, really rude or something?"

Jazz was sitting with his legs out in front of him, on crossed over the other, himself leaning against the wall with his hands laced behind his head. His visor was retracted, to Aine's mild relief. It was a little easier for her to talk to him if she could see his eyes.

Jazz turned his head to look down at her with a smile and a mischievous gleam in his eye.

"What, Ratchet? Naw, that's just how he show's he cares. Not even Optimus get's special treatment, and he's the Prime!"

"Be careful not to repair too much Ratchet," Elita instructed. "We do not need to alert Onslaught that I have been able to see a medic."

"I'll decide how much I'll repair," Ratchet said firmly. "I don't give a frag if you look like something Unicron spat out, so I'll let you keep the cosmetic damage. But I'm not letting you up until I'm satisfied that you won't fall to pieces after two steps!"

"Do not worry Aine, I am not that badly damanged," Elita reassured the girl when she saw the look on her face. "Ratchet is merely trying to make a point through exaggeration."

CLANK!

To Aine's horror, Ratchet had pulled a wrench from out of freaking _nowhere _and whacked Elita on the back of the head with it, prompting a shout of complaint from Mikaela.

"First off, I don't exaggerate, I emphasize the importance of matters. Second, that was for nearly popping out your own transformations cogs with that stupid stunt of yours in the desert. Third, I've done all I can for you now. Mikaela, how's the comm.?"

"Mixed results," she said honestly, scooting backwards. "Elita, did you land in the ocean or something?"

"A lake, actually," Elita said, faintly surprised. "How can you tell?"

"Most of the metals are all warped. I think it happened when you cooled down too fast after reentry. I think I've got your short range communications back up, but we're going to need entirely new parts for the rest of it."

"Let me see," Ratchet said, standing up and leaning over. Elita turned her head to let Ratchet examine Mikaela's handiwork. After a few seconds, Ratchet nodded once.

"Good work, good prognosis."

Mikaela beamed as Ratchet gave her a hand back down to the ground.

"So what's your plan anyway?" Bumblebee asked, Sam resting on his raised knee.

"The plane will be just big enough for you, Jazz, and myself. Which means you, Ratchet, will have to stay behind."

"Fine, but I'm taking the next flight over there," the medic grumbled. "You're going to need a real medic to put you back together again, even if I won't be able to get there in time for the fight itself."

"I will need you to keep an eye on the children any-"

"Hold on a dang second!"

All heads turned to the diminutive girl, now on her feet and looking as mad as she ever did.

"I'm not going to sit around twiddling my thumbs while Nolan's in trouble!" she exclaimed, fists on her hips. Elita frowned.

"I understand your concern, but this is too dangerous for you."

Aine did something that nearly rocked Elita – she snorted.

"Right, and you walking into an obvious trap all alone isn't? Onslaught will be too focused on you to care about anything else, and as an itty-bitty squishie," Aine held up her arms and turned around once in demonstration of her itty-bitty squishiness, "I can go places and come in closer than Jazz and Bumblebee can. Besides, when I first met these guys,"

She jerked her thumb to indicate the two smaller mechs.

"I panicked and thought they were Decepticons!"

"Hey!" Bumblebee exclaimed, visibly offended.

"My point is, how much more rational do you think Nolan's going to be?"

Jazz nodded thoughtfully. "She's got a point there. Nolan might come a lot more quietly if there's at least another human."

"Which means I should go instead," Sam said, sliding off Bumblebees leg and coming towards Aine. "I'm older for one thing, and I've already gone through worst."

"I'm not THAT young," Aine insisted, crossing her arms.

"Twelve years old is young enough," Sam countered. Aine dropped her expression of defiance for one of shock.

"What?" Sam asked.

"I'm fourteen years old you jerk!"

"Seriously??" Sam exclaimed in disbelief. "I seriously thought you were eleven, I was just guessing high!"

Aine aimed a kick at Sam, which he artfully dodged.

"That does not-" Elita tried.

"I'll go too," Mikaela decided. "I'm not a medic, but I might be enough to keep you from bleeding to death. I can be your pit crew!"

"That is a generous offer, but-"

"Aine and I should both probably go, come to think of it," Sam said thoughtfully, crossing his arms. He looked at the younger brunette. "Onslaught will probably have Nolan tied up or in a cage or something. You might need help getting him out or moving him."

"But I-"

"Am going to need every scrap of help you can get," Ratchet finished. "You don't want the firepower, so you've got to take what you can get, even if you don't think you need it."

Elita looked at everyone one at a time, from the resolute expressions of the humans to the assured and confidant – _trusting_ – ones of the Autobots.

That the First Lieutenant, Chief Medical Officer, and one of the best scouts the Autobot army had to offer made no protests of including the humans spoke volumes of the trust they held in their abilities and courage.

And why not? They already had a chance to see what humans were capable of, even young ones.

"I am not going to win this one, am I?" Elita asked with an ironic smile. Jazz grinned.

"Nope."

"So you'll let us help?" Aine asked hopefully. Elita's smile faded.

"Aine, I need you to answer me honestly: how confidant are you that you will not suffer another attack at the worst time? Panic attacks are induced by high levels of stress, from what I understand."

Before Elita had even finished, Aine was shaking my head. "I've been thinking about that a lot. The only times I've ever had an attack was when I knew the situation was bad and I was feeling especially helpless to stop it. It's not fear that does it, its feeling trapped. So long as I can _do_ something, I'm okay. I didn't have an attack when I met Onslaught alone, right?"

Elita considered for several long seconds. After a small eternity, she gave a nod.

"Very well. I will trust your judgment."

Aine could have cheered. She wasn't going to sit aside and let other people do all the work and talk all the risk! She was going to do her part, and make sure Nolan got back safe and sound!

"This was not quite what I had in mind when I said I wanted you to be more assertive," Elita mentioned dryly. Aine grinned.

"That's what you get for that stunt at the checkpoint!"

"And now that the inspirational Disney moment is over, how about this vaunted plan of yours?" Ratchet interjected dryly.

Elita nodded once, and suddenly it was all business.

"With the addition of the Sam, Mikaela, and Aine, my plan remains essentially the same, but will be eased with the help. Jazz, if you would bring up the map again? Thank you. First, at the designated time…"

* * *

Nolan would be lying if he said he wasn't scared. Hell, if he stopped to think about it for too long, he'd probably curl up in a fetal position and be unable to even move, let alone try to escape. It was the chance for escape that kept him lucid, kept him reasonably calm and alert against the terror that bashed against the walls of his mind.

He didn't know how long it had been since he had been taken, or how long he had been unconscious even, but it had been several hours at least. Long enough for the scenery outside to morph from desert to greener forest, and in that entire time Onslaught hadn't stopped or slowed more than strictly necessary to navigate a tricky area.

But, he was going to have to stop sooner or later. So, let's make it sooner.

"I need to go."

"…Human, I think you're gravely misunderstanding the 'prisoner' concept."

_Smart ass._

"No, I mean I have to go to the bathroom. Like, _now_ actually. Seriously, I can't hold it in for much longer."

"I'm not stopping for your comfort, flesh creature. Whatever the frag you're talking about, it can wait another hour."

Nolan frowned, and tried to come up with a phrasing that would make his 'explanation' sound as gross and disturbing yet completely irrefutable as possible.

"Actually, no it can't. See, humans have to dispose bodily waste every few hours and depending on what we last ate, it can be solid or liquid. Now, I had a big breakfast this morning-"

Lie! Nolan's stomach was almost screaming at him for sustenance.

"- so I've got a LOT of solid waste rolling around in here. I can hold it in for a little while longer, but sooner or later it's going to come out whether I want it to or not. It's a biological necessity, like breathing. It'll be disgusting, humiliating, and **all over **_your_ interior."

Nolan carefully enunciated the last four words, and waited for it to sink in. When it did, Nolan felt a wave of disgust shudder through the metal walls and up the seat. Nolan had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning as he felt the GILA slow and pull over.

"You have five minutes, fleshbag."

Okay, seriously, what was with this guy and the organic-themed insults?

The door swung open and Nolan helped himself out. They had stopped along a fairly wide dirt road with tall trees along each side. As calmly as he could, Nolan meandered towards the sheltering trees.

He stopped mid-meander when he heard the click of Onslaughts roof-mounted machine gun turn on him.

"You will remain in my sights as you empty your waste tanks."

Nolan spun around and put on an expression of shock and disgust, which wasn't a far cry from how he was really feeling.

"Are you nuts?? I can't go with an audience!"

"You hardly have a choice in the matter," Onslaught countered lowly. "I am not about to let you run away."

Nolan spread his arms wide. "Where am I going to run? We're out in the middle of freaking nowhere! I'll die of exposure long before I hit civilization, and that's assuming I don't get eaten by a bear first. And, believe it or not, I DO want to get out of this alive."

Onslaughts gun remained trained on him. Nolan put his fists on his hips and looked defiantly back, pretending he wasn't scared out of his wits.

"Look, I can't relax if I know you're watching, and if I can't relax, I can't "empty my waste tanks," and if I can't go now, you're the one who'll get the worst of it!"

Nolan held up a hand and spread his fingers wide. "Five minutes. You said it yourself. Just give me five minutes behind a tree a little away from here so I can do my business in private, then I'll come back and we can all get on with our lives."

The gun remained trained on Nolan's head. The boy glared back and stuck his hands in his pockets. He didn't know how well Onslaught could read human emotions, but he didn't want to take the risk of the green Decepticon seeing his hands shake.

"Your self-preservation instincts are rather dubious," Onslaught said lowly.

Nolan felt his heart stop.

The gun painfully, slowly, turned away so it was facing frontwards again. "But your argument is reasonable. Five minutes human, starting now."

On the inside, Nolan melted with relief. On the outside, he turned and calmly walked for the trees again.

Nolan walked in a casual manner, stopping occasionally to scope out a spot and surreptitiously check if he was still in Onslaughts line of sight. The trees were large and thick, and it wasn't long until he was obscured completely by the foliage.

Nolan bolted.

He had no idea where he was or where he was going, and he could candidly admit to himself that he probably had a 98% chance of dying out here or by Onslaughts had once he realized what had happened.

Better than the 100% of death once Onslaught had what he wanted.

He never believed for a minute Onslaught would let him go once he had his vengeance, and if Nolan got away, then it would be that much harder for Onslaught to control Elita, and it just might be enough to save her.

_Besides, I'm not going to die out here anyway, _Nolan resolved as he slid down a grassy slope_. I can't die yet. I can't let things with Aine end with an argument. I can't let Elita think I only wanted to use her. I can't let things end like this. I WON'T let things end like this. And I sure as hell won't let Onslaught get what he wants out of any of us!_

Besides, he did boy scouts when he was younger, and he liked to watch the discovery channel in his rare free time, especially the survival shows. He still wasn't a hundred percent sure what he was supposed to do if he saw a bear (climb a tree? Play dead? Try to look big and yell a lot?), but he might be able to cobble enough memory together to make it out of-

A tree exploded in front of him.

Nolan screamed and fell as he tried to turn back, and barely missed being crushed by the massive pine. Thundering footsteps told him who what coming.

"You are a very foolish creature, human."

Nolan scrambled to his feet and tried to run away, climb over the fallen tree to get away, but the branches were too thick and they trapped him, slowed him down enough for Onslaught to catch up easily. Nolan had barely put his feet back on the ground before he was lifted up again by the back of his shirt. Huge fingers wrapped around him tighter than strictly necessary.

"You will regret that, human, for all the remaining few seconds of your life."

Nolan's face paled as the fingers started constricting more.

_No, no, NO! I can't die here! Not like this, not like this!_

"What did you expect me to do, huh!" Nolan gasped out even as black dots peppered his vision. "For me to be a good little boy and let you kill my friend when I had even the smallest chance to save her?"

Nolan had no idea what possessed him to say that, not when he wanted so much to live and NOT invite a quicker death. But to his shock, the fingers slackened and he was able to breathe again. Nolan looked up, and even with the visor and mask Onslaught had his head angled in a way that looked…contemplative?

"You make an interesting point," he said.

_Huh_?

"The desire to survive and escape a dangerous situation is almost universal, especially among organic life," he went on, almost conversationally. "It was illogical of me to assume you would be able to fight such an ingrained instinct. It would seem the fault lies with me then for your near escape. As such, you will not be punished."

It took a few seconds for Nolans poor, over-taxed brain to wrap around this new information.

"So, you're not going to kill me?" Nolan ventured.

"Not now at least," Onslaught said. "However, this means I will need to take new measures to ensure you will not be able to try this again."

"You're going to tie me up?"

"No. I lack the rope, and I'm not well suited for such a minute task. Besides, I have no doubt you would find a way out of such bonds. No, I have something more efficient in mind."

Nolan felt confused by this. But when Onslaught raised a hand and gently took hold of one of Nolans dangling legs between this thumb and finger, confusion morphed into horror.

"No, no, please no! I won't run away again, I swear!" he cried out frantically, struggling with all his might and trying to pull his leg out of Onslaughts grasp.

"I'm not so foolish to believe you, human," Onslaught chided, keeping a firm hold on the limb and holding it steady.

"Please don't!"

"Just remember you brought his on yourself."

Onslaught pressed his thumb down and the bone snapped.

* * *

Do you hate me yet? ^_^

Reviews are pure love.


	13. Ch 13 Culmination

**AN**: This chapter, kicked my aft. Repeatedly. And laughed about it afterwards. *glares*

Been awhile since my last update, but as a reward for your patience (and wonderful, encouraging reviews), I give you my longest chapter yet. The story itself, without the notes and disclaimer, is over 15,700 words long. *crawls into a corner and dies*

BTW, when you're done here, check one a lovely one-shot called "The Blue Planet," written by Lasgalendil, about movie-verse Skyfire. You can find the link in my favorites.

**Disclaimer**: … You know, I'm pretty certain the only reason people put these things up is purely out of tradition, and I'm just a little sheep going along with the crowd.

* * *

Ch. 13 – Culmination

Onslaught stood at the edge of the meadow, arms crossed, looking down at the valley exit where Elita would have to come in if she wanted to make the dead line. He hadn't moved in nearly 40 minutes, not because he anticipated her coming early, but because there wasn't anything else left to do. The trap was set, the cards were laid…all there was left was for the prey to spring the trap.

A ping on his scanner, and he stiffened. Here she comes, right on time…

Behind the mask, Onslaught grinned in violent anticipation.

With his scanner, he could roughly follow Elita coming in closer over the next two minutes, slowing down only once to a near stop as she navigated around a tricky obstacle just inside the valley exit, and obstacle he himself had been able to roll right over with fair ease. Really, he could come up with no logical reason why any soldier would handicap themselves with an alt mode of such limit mobility and function.

_Weakling Autobots don't have the bearings for an alt mode with real power,_ he concluded in disgust.

Elita drove out of the valley and slowed to a stop dead center in the middle of the meadow, right on time down to a few seconds. Onslaught patiently waited as Elita transformed to her root mode, her body tense but making no aggressive movements. If nothing else, the Autobot was punctual and knew how to follow instructions to the letter.

"Remove all of your weapons and secondary power cells, and throw them here."

Onslaught indicated the grass at his feet.

Elita's face tightened.

"I came under your terms so that the human would be kept safe and set free. It would be foolhardy of me to leave myself so vulnerable before I was assured of the human's safety," she said evenly. She was neither challenging nor antagonizing, just stating fact and practically.

Onslaught nodded once. "Fair enough," he allowed, almost pleasantly.

One optic on Elita in case she tried anything, Onslaught sidestepped once to the side, then quickly reached down behind the base of a tall, old tree. A sharp cry of pain, and when he straightened he was holding the boy in his hand. The humans face was contorting and body twisting in agony as he panted and whimpered in pain, body clammy in sweat and face pale. Elita gasped in horror, and glared furiously at Onslaught.

"What have you done to him?!" She demanded, her calm façade briefly broken.

"Nothing permanent or life threatening," Onslaught answered breezily. "The human attempted an escape, and I was forced to take more…drastic measures to ensure his future obedience. But, as promised, he has been allowed to live…"

Onslaughts pleasant tone took on an icy edge.

"…so long as _you_, Elita, demonstrate similar compliance."

Elita looked like she wanted nothing more than to clear the distance with a single leap and tackle Onslaught to the ground while wrestling his hostage away. She shifted her gaze to the boy, who was shaking his head back and forth rapidly (his survival instincts really _were_ rather dubious at best), before she slowly raised one arm parallel to her chassis.

A few deft twists of her fingers, a few clicks, and the power cell to her wrist pistol was removed. With a flick of the wrist Elita tossed it so it landed at Onslaughts feet with a muffled thump. She couldn't remove the entire pistol by herself, but without the independent power cell it was completely useless.

Compartments and small slots covering Elita's body were all opened and emptied of small arms, blades, grenades, and a coil of wire, all systematically removed, held up for inspection by Onslaught, and tossed to the steadily growing pile at his feet. Really, it was mildly surprising how efficiently the femme was able to pack her firepower, small as it was compared to his. Even the human looked impressed by how much weaponry his guardian had been hiding within her own body.

"Your personal repair kit as well," Onslaught instructed.

Elita did not react at all, only reaching back to the small of her back and removing the compacted kit carried there. It too joined the pile.

There she was, standing out in the open with no weapons, no tricks, no hope, all in the vain attempt to save a single worthless organic of no tactical value or importance by any stretch of the imagination.

Onslaught was feeling uncharacteristically gleeful.

Satisfied by Elitas compliance, Onslaught plopped the human onto a thick branch high up a nearby tree, the same one that had been sheltering the boy before the Autobot's arrival. It was the perfect front row seat for the upcoming show.

"You said he would be allowed to go free if I did all you asked," Elita said, not quite able to keep out a hint of desperation. Onslaught looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

"And so he will," he said with mock sincerity. "If he can climb down and run away, I won't stop him. It's only a question of how badly he wants it."

If looks could kill…

Onslaught took his sweet time stepping closer to the femme, the abandoned weaponry ignored. Eltia stood her ground, watching his approach steadily, refusing to grant him the pleasure of seeing fear in her optics.

That would change soon enough.

"You make one move I don't like…"

Onslaught pointed back to the trapped human.

"…and your pet fleshling dies. Understand?"

Elita said nothing, but her optics burned a little whiter. Onslaught grinned.

"Good."

Elita crossed her arms up in front of her face just in time for Onslaughts first punch. Metal on metal clanged together in teeth-rattling reverberation before the femme was thrown backwards by the force, her feet leaving the ground as she sailed backwards. She landed heavily and slid another few feet as she skidded to a stop. But millennia upon millennia of experience and battle-honed reflexes had her rolling back on her feet and in a crouching fight-or-flight position within seconds, bringing her wrist pistol up to bear –

- only to stop in mid-motion, as she remembered how useless that was.

Elita unfurled from her crouch back to her full height as Onslaught closed the distance again as casually as the first time.

"The mighty Elita One, Commander of the Femme Division…"

BAM! Hit to the stomach.

"…brilliant tactician and guerilla warfare strategist…"

SMACK! Punch to the cheek.

"…famed for ruthlessness on the battle field, undone by stupid Autobot sentimentalities."

WHAM! Chop to the shoulder. Elita nearly buckled to her knees under the force.

Onslaught caught her with a massive hand around her throat, thick fingers crushing dents into the pliable metal as he lifted her to his optic level, her feet dangling several feet in the air.

"Know this Elita One: I will crush you and tear you apart, and you will not know the relief of death before I want you to."

* * *

Nolan wanted to cover his ears and squeeze his eyes shut so he wouldn't have to see Elita's degradation, hear the pained cries she couldn't quite contain.

At the same time, he couldn't bring himself to look away. It was like his conscience had developed a masochistic streak and was forcing to watch the pain and humiliation HE forced Elita into. If he hadn't been so stupid, if he hadn't been so, so immature and acting like a freaking little _kid_, running off alone like a six year old with on a tantrum, then he wouldn't have gotten himself captured, and Elita wouldn't…she wouldn't be here. If he hadn't gotten captured, she'd be able to fight back, defend herself, get away, not just stand there and let Onslaught…let herself be…

"Fight back," he pleaded in a whisper. "C'mon, fight back! Forget me, please! Don't let him do this to you."

Elita had fallen, and Onslaught gave her a kick to her abdomen worth of an NFL quarter-back. Nolan flinch violently, his hands coming to rest on his own stomach as Elita was sent flying and rolling across the meadow.

"Why won't you fight back!" he demanded uselessly.

"Because she's trying to keep him distracted, that's why."

Nolan almost fell out of the tree.

To his right, the meadow and Onslaught's torture of Elita. To his left…

"AINE??"

"Shh! Keep quiet. We're trying to be discreet here."

Nolan's mouth flapped open and shut, completely speechless as he tried to wrap his head around the fact that Aine, his baby sister, a little red-faced with a trace of dirt on her cheek and missing her right sleeve, but with a grin and an air of confidence he couldn't remember seeing before, beamed at him.

After everything that had happened to him the last three days, Nolan honestly thought he couldn't be shocked by anything anymore. And yet, his flabber had been thoroughly gasted.

"But – how – who –what??"

"Nice to see you too, oh brother of mine," Aine said flippantly, as she moved sideways so she was closer to Nolans leg. Nolan had (painfully) swung it up so it was laid out mostly straight on the limb, to alleviate the pain and take the weight off. Aine frowned. "Nolan, can you pull you pant leg up? We're going to have to set this before we move you.

"…Aine, what are you standing on? And what happened to your shirt?"

A boy rose up on Aine's left side, and once again Nolan had to grab back to keep from falling back and off the tree. In his hands he held two long, fairly sturdy sticks and a couple of strips of purple cloth.

Well, now he knew what happened to his sister's wardrobe.

"Sorry Nolan, we're going to try to be real gentle here," the boy said apologetically, handing the materials to Aine to hold and rolling up Nolan's pant leg. True to his word, he tried to be gentle, but there was an urgency to his movements as well. Nolan hissed in pain several times, but said

nothing.

"By the way, I'm Sam," the boy said as he rolled the fabric over his knee.

"Nolan," he hissed out while Aine threaded the fabric strips under his leg above and below the fracture. "And not to sound ungrateful or anything, but would someone mind terribly to tell me WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON??"

"We're saving your butt while Elita keeps Onslaught busy so he won't think to look back and notice, gosh golly gee, he's losing his leverage," Aine answered easily, now putting the sticks in place on either side of the leg. "Now hold still. On the count of three Sam and I are both going to tighten this, okay? One…"

They tightened.

"Aaargh! Hey, what happened to three?!"

"Sorry dude, but we figured it would be easier if you weren't expecting it," Sam apologized.

"That sounds familiar."

"…I might have seen it on TV."

Nolan didn't know whether to laugh or groan.

The boy – Sam – looked down at the ground. "Jazz, we're semi-good to go!"

Jazz?

"Right then, one of ya get up on th' branch so I c'n have a hand free for him then," a deep voice instructed.

Nolan whipped his head around, trying to spot the third speaker. Despite the almost familiar slang, the voice held a metallic undertone betraying otherworldly origins, and he recalled the snippets Elita had mentioned about the other Autobots Earth-side before. Sam, now resting on the branch, looked like he was trying not to grin.

"Down here sport."

Nolan leaned over to look down, and gaped at the 16 foot silver robot standing below the branches, arms stretched up as high as possible and hands flat, acting as a living platform for Aine and Sam.

"…Jazz?" Nolan said in disbelief. "As in Optimus' First Lietenunt Jazz?"

The mech grinned.

"Nice t'know my reputation precedes me."

"But you can't be an Autobot, you're too small!" Nolan blurted out.

Dead silence.

Sam muffled his laughter in his arm, Aine bit her lips to keep from grinning, and Nolan slapped a hand over his mouth.

"Hardy har har," Jazz deadpanned. "If your leg wasn't busted I'd be tempted t' accidently drop ya. Now hurry up and scoot over. Elita's buyin' us time with her skid plates and we'd best make good use of it."

A horrid crunch filled the air, and effectively sapped all the mirth out of the teens.

In less than thirty seconds Jazz had all the kids out of the tree, Nolan cradled in his arms while Sam and Aine dogged his heels, getting away from the meadow and Onslaughts firing range post-haste. Nolan twisted his head around, catching glimpses of Onslaughts green bulk and Elita's red armor through the trees past Jazz's arm.

"You guys have scanners and stuff, right?" Nolan said. "And we're pretty close to him right now. How does he not know you're here?"

Jazz grinned and twisted his head around as far is it could go (which, since he was a "robotic organism", was a freakishly large amount).

In stark contrast to the gleaming silver was a black, round disk about the size of Nolans' palm, sticking to the base of the mechs head.

"And that is…?"

* * *

"_This, my dear comrades, is Onslaughts very own transponder chip," Elita explained, the innocuous looking little disk sitting innocently in the center of her open palm. _

_All the mechs immediately leaned in closer._

"_Two questions: how did you get it, and how is Onslaught still functioning?" Bumblebee asked, optics glued to the disk like he expected it to sprout legs and do the macarena any second now. _

"_I did not personally remove it from Onslaughts CPU by force, if that is what you are assuming," Elita said dryly with a raised brow. "He had removed it himself, presumably some time ago, and used it to lure me away from the children by attaching it to a scout drone. He neglected to retrieve it afterwards."_

"_So THAT'S where you ran off to before!" Jazz exclaimed in realization, recalling how Elita had needed a few minutes for a 'quick task' before they were able to leave for the base._

_Elita tossed the chip up and caught it between her fingers. "I say turn-about is fair play, do you not agree?"_

"_Um, forgive my human ignorance here, but does anyone else think Onslaught finding himself on his own scanners – twice – is going to be a bit, you know, odd?" Sam asked._

"_Front line soldiers like Onslaught rarely have the more sophisticated scanning systems," Elita explained. "His systems will detect this signal, register it as their own, and disregard it. The user will essentially become invisible to Onslaughts own senses."_

"_O'course, that won't do a scrap o' good if he gets an eyeful of them anyways," Jazz added. _

"_One of you," Elita nodded to Jazz and Bumblebee, "will take the chip, come in close, and wait for Onslaught to reveal Nolan's location. Once you have it, you are to retrieve him and remove him from the area as swiftly and quietly as possible. You will also be taking Aine, to keep him calm, and Sam, in case she requires assistance in moving him._

"_You are both well qualified for either task. I will allow you to decide among yourself who will do which."_

_Jazz and Bumblebee exchanged a look._

_Without a word, and to Elita's utter perplexity, they simultaneously pumped their fists three times, bringing their hands down into a flat hand, palm down, and a fist on the third arc._

"_Yeah! Dibs on the chip then!" Jazz crowed, plucking the prize from Elita's fingers. Bumblebee glared at his fist like it had personally betrayed him. _

"_I do not understand…" Eltia said._

_The humans broke down into a fit of giggles._

* * *

"This is shockingly OW! convenient," Nolan commented as Jazz hurried through the trees, going as fast as he could without jolting the boys leg (too much) or losing the other two teens along the way (because losing Aine wouldn't endear him to Elita and loosing Sam would get Bumblebee to shoot him dead).

"Yeah well, I ain't gonna complain 'bout a little good luck now and then," Jazz said cheerily. "You'd be surprised how far a little luck will get ya sometimes."

A loud CLANG! pierced the air as effectively as a gunshot, followed by a dull, heavy thud. Nolan and Aine both flinched.

"Okay, next question: now that I'm not a hostage anymore, why don't you turn around and go back to HELP HER??"

"Sorry Nolan, m'job is t' keep you (an' by extension Sam and Aine) from general harm. The good news is I ain't the only one out here."

Jazz cocked his head slightly, and unbeknownst to the humans contacted the cavalry on his private comm. line.

_Bee, Nolan's safe an' outta the way. Have fun._

* * *

Elita's back hit the ground hard, and not a second later she was being crushed down into the soft earth. Onslaught kept putting more and more weight on his foot, it nearly covering her entire torso. She writhed in pain as her face twisted in agony, audible cracking sounds telling that her armor was buckling under the pressure. Onslaught knew all her warning alarms were going off, warning of breeches and breaks and internal systems being compromised – and she was utterly helpless to stop him.

She had almost whimpered and gasped a few times, but she hadn't yet screamed properly. But that was alright. He would have his scream soon enough. He would have her _begging_ for deactivation soon enough. He wouldn't give it, but he would have her begging. Anticipation was only making it all the sweeter.

Elita's optics blinked once, twice…and she smirked.

That was all the warning he got before a plasma blast hit him square in the chest.

Onslaught stumbled backwards two steps. Free, Elita struggled to her feet, one arm around her cracked chassis.

But it wasn't the femme that held his attention, but the little yellow interloper who had appeared out of fragging nowhere, gun pointed point blank at him with his battle mask drawn, solar cannon humming and lighting up for another shot.

Onslaught, belatedly realizing his proximity alarm had been pinging for awhile now and he'd been too caught up in his activities to pay any heed, had half a second to curse himself for not paying attention, Elita for her underhanded tactic (right, she was the underhanded one here), and the intruder for stopping him from taking HIS vengeance from Elita's shell, before the bug shot again.

Onslaught was hit again in the shoulder, forcing him back another step – and while his armor was holding up under the comparatively meager barrage, he boiled in anger that this twerp had the audacity to enter where he was not wanted!

Snarling, Onslaught fired the missile launcher on his shoulder. The little yellow bug was agile and quick to sidestep, but he underestimated the missiles power. He was blown backwards by the explosive force and landed heavily nearly 20 feet away from the new crater.

Onslaught whirled around, but Elita – the spineless coward! – was nowhere to be seen.

Enraged, Onslaught lobbed a few more missiles at the intruder as he tried to get up, battering him with the blasts until he was nearly covered in black scorch marks.

"Show yourself Elita, or I will turn your Yellow Knight into charred slag!"

* * *

While it still held true that the forest was too dense for easy movement, Bumblebee had bought the Commander enough time to slip past the first few rows and disappear behind the dense vegetation, turning a former disadvantage to her favor.

Elita came down into a sliding seat about fifty feet past the tree line, right next to the base of an particularly thick pine, an arm still holding her chassis together.

From behind the tree, a red faced Mikaela stood up, still heaving from her mad dash from where Elita had slowed and let her out at the mouth of the valley to the designated tree, all the while carrying the relatively small but still burdensome robot-med-kit.

Wordlessly Elita popped up her pistol while at the same time Mikaela dropped the case and flipped the latches, swinging the lid up. Strapped to the underside of the lid was a thick, dark disk with a ridged edge a little under a foot in diameter and two inches thick: Elita's final spare power cell.

Mikaela tossed it up to the femme, who caught it and snapped it into place in one fluid motion, flexing her wrist.

"Lie down," the teen ordered, pulling out a thick pump filled with a dull white substance almost as long as her forearm. Elita did so obediently, and Mikaela hopped on top of the femme, kneeled, and promptly started pushing down on the pump, pushing out white foam that expanded and quickly dried in the air, filling the cracks and sealing them closed.

An ugly repair job, to be sure, but it held the pieces together and stopped the energon flow. For a field medic, the stuff was practically a Primus sent gift.

"I have decided that I am extremely grateful I let you talk me into this 'pit-crew' idea of yours," Elita couldn't help but comment with a little grin.

* * *

"_My apologies, but I have yet to understand what you are trying to say. You wish to be…what again?"_

"_Pit-crew. Mech A gets hurt, so Femme B distracts Onslaught so Mech A has a chance run off in a quiet corner where I'm waiting. I patch up Mech A, and Mech A can go back to fighting without having to worry about his arm falling off."_

"_Your confidence in my fighting prowess moves me," Bumblebee said dryly. _

"_I've had years of practice taking machinery apart and putting it back together, and Ratchets been showing me the specifics of Cybertronian anatomy. I'll be like the NASCAR pit crews: get you back on the road in less than 60 seconds! Besides, since I'm organic, Onslaught won't even know I'm there."_

_Elita exchanged a look with Ratchet.  
_

"_She's not exactly surgeon material yet, but she's a smart study and she's more than adequate for a field medic," Ratchet attested. "If I can't be there, I'd feel better if you had SOMEONE there who had half an idea of what they were doing."_

"_I would never doubt Ratchet assessment of any one's skills," Elita said, turning back to Mikaela. "Nor do I doubt your resolution. But are you equipped for the task?"_

_In answer, Mikaela calmly walked off, and shortly returned carrying a silver colored suitcase that neither Sam, Bumblebee, or Jazz had known the contents therein. Calm as can be, she kneeled down, flipped the case open, and spun in around for all to see. Everyone leaned in a little for a better look. Those who had jaws dropped them._

_Packed with incredible efficiency and care was a tightly packed upper class repair kit: clamps, spare wires of half a dozen varieties, cutters, a tube of foam adhesive, spare hinges and joint balls, twine, even rubber gloves and an apron for Mikaela's protection. Anything you could think of, it was squeezed in there with its own niche and slot. _

"_Any questions?" Mikaela asked sweetly._

"…_Why do you have a wrench?"_

_Ratchet suddenly looked incredibly smug._

* * *

With an 'omph!' Mikaela slid down off of Elita, allowing Elita to test the foamy adhesive with her finger tips. To her pleasure the foam had already hardened.

She also noticed that it had gotten very quiet in the last minute.

"Show yourself Elita, or I will turn your Yellow Knight into charred slag!"

Break time over.

"Get to the second point. Stop for nothing." Elita ordered, jumping to her feet. Mikaela was already gathering up her med-kit for manic dash to the second agreed upon "pit". That was the deal: three pits, three repairs, no two in the same location, and after that the girl was to hightail it to the Safe Zone with Jazz and the others.

A flash of red in Onslaughts peripheral vision was all that saved him from two shots to the head. Pure instinct jerked his head back, missing the shots by mere inches. The distraction was enough to allow the pest to get back on his feet, if shakily. The younger bot lined up his cannon, but didn't fire just yet.

Onslaught glowered at Elita as she and her unexpected ally circled around him, rage radiating off him in waves. But he didn't forget to check his scanners, which told him that there were no other Autobots in the area. Elita had played her one ace in the hole.

"You should not have done that Elita," he growled. He swung his gun up and around so it was aimed at the tree that held his hostage.

"Both of you, toss your weapon power cells or I turn the human into so much ash."

"No, I do not think you will." Elita said mildly.

Onslaught frowned, before turning a little to look himself. His side glance turned into a full turn and stare as he discovered the tree was conspicuously empty of young humans.

"How…?!"

"You did promise that Nolan would be free to go if he was able to climb down and run," Elita reminded him cheekily.

But, he had broken his leg! The only other Autobot was in his sights, there was no way that -

His transponder chip.

With perfect clarity that often accompanied hindsight, Onslaught realized what an utter mistake it had been to leave his own transponder chip behind, practically giving Elita's ally a virtual invisibility cloak to his own sensors. This meant there was at least one more Autobot in the wings, who would probably be coming back once the human was a safe. And while Onslaught was a powerhouse in his own right, three against one were never good odds.

The red and yellow bots were powering up their weapons.

No, no, no, it couldn't end like this! He wouldn't watch all that he had planned, anticipated, and fought for so long unravel so easily! He would not let the death of his gestalt mates go unpunished without a fight! He won't, he won't, he WON'T!

With a roar Onslaught fires a shot at Elita with his gun while simultaneously shooting a missile at the yellow one, forcing them both to abandon their shots and avoid the blasts. Onslaught immediately dropped and transformed, revving his engines and barreling towards the smallest bot with all the considerable force he could muster. The young bot didn't even realize what was happening until his entire lower body was smashed into and he went tumbling. Onslaught transformed again, the yellow bot swung his gun around to shoot, but Onslaught grabbed his arm and forced it aside. With a might heave he lifted the bug up high and _threw_ him at Elita with all his strength.

Elita, in what was probably her least thought out move of her military life, tried to catch him.

The shorter but bulkier mech crashed into her, and they were both sent tumbling in a tangled heap. Elita started to pull herself out, and heard the rumbling roar of Onslaughts engine. She threw herself back and rolled out of the way just in time to avoid being crushed under Onslaughts alt mode.

Bumblebee wasn't so lucky.

He let out an ear-piercing cry as the huge GILA crushed his gunning arm under the tires, destroying the gun and twisting his arm at an unnatural angle, sparks flying from the elbow joints and from the torn wires sticking from the cracks. The young mech cradled his arm against him, not noticing Onslaught turning around to ram him again.

Fortunately for him, Elita was more observant.

With a battle cry the femme jumped on top of him and threw her weight left, forcing Onslaught to turn and miss her comrade.

Onslaught tried to throw the femme off, but she held on with the tenacity of a pit bull, gripping with her hands and knees to his roof. With one hand she smashed into Onslaughts front window and tried to claw his interior apart. Onslaught roared in pain, and started to transform in an attempt to force Elita off. The femme, not wanting any parts of her caught in the shifting metals, let go, fell, rolled, and was back on her feet by the time Onslaught was fully back in root mode…

…only to have Elita literally crawl all over him, attacking his seams with clever, devastating fingers, as slippery as an eel and as hard to grab. No matter how many blows he rained on her back, he couldn't get a good angle on her head, and had to focus more on keeping her hands away from her main objective, his neck.

Without warning she dropped away, scuttling away just before Onslaught could finally get a good grip on her.

He heard running, and Onslaught turned slightly to see the yellow mech…leaving the trees? And with his arm, if not fully repaired (his cannon was still a mess), at least not sparking anymore, with dull white lines over where the cracks used to be.

The same dull white substance webbing over Elita's chassis.

_The other Autobot must be a young medic,_ he deduced. It would explain these hurried repairs, and why he wasn't helping with the fight. The medic was probably too young or inexperienced to risk on the battlefield just yet, especially when there wasn't enough distraction to ensure a certain amount of safety.

The medic had to die. But with the transponder chip, Onslaught wouldn't be able to find him, and he was probably smart enough not to stay in one spot for more than one repair.

Or if he wasn't, Elita was smart enough to tell him.

Onslaught held up an arm and turned as Elita peppered him with shots, keeping the yellow one in his sights as he circled around. He couldn't use his gun anymore, but he was still very much a threat.

* * *

Meanwhile, about a hundred yards up the slope, in a clearing that offered a prime view of the meadow, three human teenagers and their not-so-human guardian were watching the show.

"All right Bee!" Sam cheered, pumping his fist. "Show that creep just how kick-ass you really are!"

Nolan snorted. "Oh please. Elita's been doing most of the work. Bumblebee is mostly distraction and back up. I bet she could have taken him all by herself if she didn't have to worry about keeping Onslaughts attention totally on her instead of half on me."

Sam whirled around in defense of his friend. "Hey, don't knock Bumblebee! I've seen him go totally Jet Li on a Decepticon before, and Mikaela saw him keep fighting even when he lost both his legs!"

"That Jet Li fight, how big was the Decepticon?"

"…About his size, I think."

"Elita took on an entire gestalt all by herself, and most of them were bigger than her." Nolan told him smugly.

"Yeah well, she's had a lot of experience. Bumblebee's pretty young, and he's totally awesome still."

"Yeah, but one on one Elita would wipe the floor with him."

"In a fair fight? Bumblebee would totally give her a run for her money."

"Okay, seriously, what is wrong with you guys?" Aine huffed, crossing her arms and looking at the teen boys as if thinking 'I'm not actually associated with these people, am I?'

Jazz laughed. "Actually, that's kind of an unfair bet, seein' as how Elita's already 'wiped the floor with Bee' once today."

"Jazz!" Sam exclaimed, looking betrayed. Nolan grinned victoriously and jabbed a finger at him.

"HAH!"

"That didn't count, it was an ambush!"

Aine rolled her eyes but decided contemplating the mind of teenage boys regarding their respective giant robot guardians wasn't worth the waste of brain cell space.

"Alright kiddies, seein' as we're all gettin' along, I'll be leavin' ya for th' time being, m'kay?"

Aine snapped her head up, as did Sam and Nolan. "Excuse me?"

"My main objective was t' get Nolan outta there and make sure you all were away and somewhere safe. You're well outta the danger zone here, ya can see what's goin' on, and ya don't really need me here right now."

"They seem to be doing alright by themselves," Aine noted, looking back down on the meadow.

"If Jazz can help end the battle even two minutes sooner, all the better," Nolan pointed out. He looked down at his leg. "Besides, it's not like I'm going anywhere, and I already told Jazz that if he tried to take me away from here before we know how this pans out I'll personally eat his interior."

"An' I for would rather keep my seats intact, thank you very much. See ya in five then!"

* * *

With Onslaught having to focus on two targets instead of one like before it was easier for Elita to come in closer than the last time they fought one on one. She held up her non-gun hand, fingers straight, eyed his neck cables, calculated the distance, and when Onslaught turned a little more to keep Bumblebee in his sights, she leaped for his back, hand up and ready to jab down on the briefly exposed cables.

Too soon!

Onslaught spun back around, arm raised, and backhanded Elita in mid air, sending her flying backwards and bouncing on her back. But he left himself open to the other threat, and Bumblebee charged forward to ram him down and force him face forward to the ground, pinning him and effectively ending the fight (so long as he and Elita could keep him down long enough for Jazz to get his aft down here with his energy cuffs).

But Bumblebee had been too far away, not fast enough, and Onslaught was half turned already and Bumblebee was moving too fast to stop, deciding it was still worth the shot.

He never saw the dagger.

SSST!

Bumblebee stopped as he felt something sharp and cold pierce his armor. He looked down, almost in surprise, at Onslaughts fist that had forced the blade into his chest, just above his spark chamber. He blinked, as if not quite comprehending what had just happened. Onslaught pulled his dagger out, slick with black grease and bright pink energon. Bumblebees hand went to the wound, before his knees gave out and he crashed to the ground with a small whine, optics flashing bright and dim.

"NO!" Elita cried out as if in pain. Onslaught looked at her over his shoulder and smirked behind his mask.

"You should have seen this coming, Elita. Think of this as an eye for an eye: your teammates for mine. Perhaps, I should just rip this little one apart and make you watch as he dies."

Elita refaced from Bumblebee to Onslaught. Her expression morphed from horror to twisted rage, and even from a distance Onslaught could just pick out the whine as the components and optical functions went into over drive, turning her pale blue optics into searing white.

Aw, she was mad. Well, looks like the fight was really going to start now.

* * *

"BUMBLEBEE!" Sam cried out in horror as he watched his friend fall. Aine gasped and covered her mouth, and Nolan looked stunned, in disbelief that the tide had turned so fast and so badly.

"Get up, get up, get up, please get," Sam muttered prayerfully, eyes glued on the still form of the yellow mech.

Bumblebee didn't move, but something else did: a small, dark haired form leaving the shelter for the tree and making a bee line for the young warrior.

"Mikaela…? Mikaela!" Sam cupped his hands around his mouth. "GO BACK! DON'T LET HIM SEE YOU!"

"She can't hear us from up here, I don't think," Aine mentioned softly. Nolan's eyes darted from the girl to the Decepticon.

"If he sees her, no way she's getting away….dammit, where's Jazz already??"

Without a word Sam broke away from the sibling pair and ran down the slope so fast he risked falling and rolling the rest of the way down, trees and rocks willing.

"Sam, what are you doing?!" Aine exclaimed. "It's too dangerous!"

"My best friend and my girlfriend are down there now! I'm not going to just leave them there!"

Sam was gone before either O'Connell could come up with an argument to make him stay. Nolan groaned and fisted his hand in his brown hair.

"Damn it."

* * *

Elita ran at him in a suicide charge, and Onslaught fired at her with his shot gun in an almost lazy fashion. But she wasn't so enraged as to be stupid, and she was quick to sidestep the shot, along with the next, and the one after that, as quickly and easily as if she had precognitive abilities.

And while Elita attacked Onslaught like a creature possessed, Mikaela was running across the stretch of grass, med-kit banging painfully against her leg with each step. She would never remember the moment when she decided to disobey Elita's strict orders and leave her shelter. All she remembered is seeing Bumblebee, bright, cheerful, fun but protective Bumblebee, freeze and fall as the dagger slipped from his chest, dripping in her friend's fluids.

A logical, rational person would have found her move very foolish. Onslaught was a mere thirty feet away, and even if Mikaela was able to prevent Bumblebee's imminent death (if he wasn't dead already), he was still utterly helpless and would be killed by Onslaught easily. At least dead he wouldn't be able to use the young mech as leverage against Elita. All Mikaela would accomplish was exposing herself and leaving herself vulnerable.

But Mikaela wasn't thinking like a logical, rational person. She was thinking like a warm-blooded human being, who just wanted her friend to be safe.

Bumblebee had settled on his side, hand limply on his chest. Mikaela dropped her kit and pulled Bumblebee's hand away, exposing the slit where the knife had entered. It was too small to work easily; she'd have to do this mostly by feel. The idea frightened her, but no way she could sit here and do nothing if there was even the slightest chance she could help.

"It's okay Bee, you're going to be alright, I promise," she muttered, pulling on the rubber gloves. Bumblebee's optics remained dark.

Biting her lip, Mikaela reached in up to her elbows and felt around. The damage was bad, quite a few torn wires she'd need to reconnect, and the integrity of his chest armor was compromised, but the blade had missed his spark chamber by a few inches. Onslaught had been too hurried, and the sloppy attack cost him a killing blow. Thank goodness, it looks like there wasn't anything that was actually life –

Liquid dripped onto her gloved hand, warmth seeping through almost painfully. Her eyes widened.

His fuel pump had been pieced, and was losing life-sustaining energon fast. That was what had caused Bumblebee to pass out so quickly: his systems, detecting a rapid loss of energy, had initiated automatic protocols to conserve what was left, not knowing that the energon was being leaked out.

Mikaela pulled back and reached for the foamy adhesive. She didn't know how much Bumblebee had lost already, but if she could seal the break it might be enough to keep him alive until one of the others was able to donate enough energon to pull him out of the danger zone. Unlike humans and their blood cells, Cybertronian bodies couldn't exactly create more energon to replace what was lost.

With a battle cry Elita spun and delivered a high kick to Onslaughts head no mech frame had the flexibility to emulate. The kick hit Onslaughts jaw with so much force, as it snapped back for a moment he honestly thought his head was going to snap right off. Elita gave him no chance to recover from the hit, already battering him with a swift series of jabs and punches to his seams and less protected areas, and only a lucky block saved his neck from similar treatment. But the rest of him was protesting loudly the treatment, filling his CPU with warnings of damaged nerves and blocked lines. If this kept up, he'd be crippled for the rest of the fight!

He kicked out, trying to knock her down, but she jumped up to avoid it, but couldn't avoid the following punch to the gut. She was forced down, bent double, and Onslaught took the opportunity to smash down the back of her head with his fist, dropping her to the ground and knocking her nearly senseless.

Onslaught stood over her for a few seconds, fans kicking into overdrive to cool his systems and give his self-repair systems a chance to catch up with some of the damage the femme did. She might not have had her firepower anymore, but she was still just as dangerous. Slaggit, his arm felt about ready to fall off his shoulder from all the abuse that joint took! Come to think of it, nearly all his joints were hurting, and they were rather sensitive. Elita had been quite thorough.

He really hated that.

Onslaught glanced back over his shoulder at the yellow one, in case he wasn't as down for the count as he'd hoped…and had to do a double take.

A human, different from the two with Elita, was up to her elbows in the mechs wound, working quickly but with an expression of intense concentration. She knew what she was doing, and was working with purpose. There was even an open med kit next to her, in miniature but with all the tools a proper field medic would need.

_THIS is their medic?!_

Onslaught didn't know if he was just shocked, disgusted, annoyed, insulted or amused. Well, he had to give the Autobots points for being resourceful, using humans where they didn't want to risk one of their own. He just hoped no Decepticon ever thought to copy it, because Primus forbid he EVER let one of those filthy, smelly, clumsy, organic creatures anywhere NEAR his more delicate systems!

But, in any case, this might be just the opportunity he needed…

Onslaught stalked over to the fallen Autobot and the human, and while she could clearly see him coming, she didn't leave her task (though he was pretty sure she was moving extra fast now). Onslaught snorted in disgust. The mech was good as dead anyway. She _should_ have been running to save herself, if she had any sense of self-preservation at all. By the time the human was satisfied enough with her work and tried to run, it was already too late. She abandoned her kit and got three steps away before she was snatched up by the Decepticon.

"I don't know if you're brave or just stupid," Onslaught said as the flesh creature struggled against his unyielding fingers. "Your repairs _might_ have saved the Autobot for a little while, but he will still die here today, and because of your foolishness, you will be joining him."

The human said nothing, clearly terrified out of her wits, but was trying not to show it, glaring at him. It would have been more effective if she hadn't been trembling so violently.

"Human, can you fly?"

She started. "What?"

"I bet you can."

Her eyes widened in realization, just before Onslaught pulled his arm back and threw her across the meadow.

Mikaela screamed and she flew through the air, spinning head over heels as she reached the arch of her flight and started falling. She covered her head and curled up in a vain attempt to protect herself, even though at her speed there was no hope of survival.

A silver streak appeared from the trees, leaping up and catching the girl in her fall, coming down and tucking into a protective roll with Mikaela in the center. She banged hard against the metal and saw stars, but clutched against her savior as best she could until the rolling stopped.

Jazz slowly uncurled but kept a protective hand wrapped around the balled up girl.

"You a'ight Mikki?" Jazz asked quietly. She sat up, feeling dizzy and knowing she was probably going home with a plethora of bruises all over her body.

"Well, I'm alive, and that's plenty good enough," she said with a smile. Jazz grinned too, in relief.

Mikaela looked behind him, and her eyes widened in horror.

"BEHIND YOU!"

Jazz threw himself over Mikaela just before the missile hit him full force in the back. The force and explosion forced him forward, and had he not been bracing for it he would have crushed the girl beneath him. Instead, he flipped forward and rolled twice until he was on his stomach, a charred crater where his back used to be.

He didn't move, didn't groan, didn't twitch.

"Oh god, Jazz!" Mikaela exclaimed. She looked back at Onslaught behind her, who only stood there, head tilted curiously.

"They keep getting smaller," he commented. Not even bothering to spare Mikaela a glance, he turned and went back to his primary target, still on the ground.

Mikaela's med kit was still by Bumblebee, a good hundred feet away at least. She looked at Jazz's sparking back. Standing on shaky legs, she hurried over the look at the damage.

"Oh god…" she moaned. Ruptured lines, wires, his spinal strut was completely exposed, it was a total mess.

Tubes, thin and thick, twisted and spurted pink and blue liquids, and in horror Mikaela realized that Jazz could very bleed out within a couple of minutes, and even if he didn't, the corrosive energon could very well eat away his more delicate systems beyond repair.

No time to grab the tools. She'd have to do what she could here.

Mikaela started grabbing all the loose tube ends and, lacking any other alternative, twisted the ends into knots to stop the bleeding. Ratchet would probably kill her, but this was the only option she had.

She got careless, and a few drops of the pink liquid spattered on her upper arm, eating through the cloth and hitting her skin. Mikaela screamed in pain and dropped what she was doing, grabbing the burning area with one hand. She breathed heavily for a couple of seconds, tears of pain pricking the corners of her eyes, but she gritted her teeth and dove right back in. Jazz didn't have the luxury of time, and with the Allspark shard gone, he didn't have the luxury of another chance either…

"Mikaela!"

The girls head snapped up, and her jaw nearly dropped when she spotted her boyfriend running towards her like the hounds of hell were on his heels.

"Mikaela, what happened to Jazz?!"

"Onslaught got him. I can't leave him here, or he'll die." She looked back at Bumblebee, then Onslaught and Elita. "You think you can grab my med kit without Onslaught noticing? It's got everything in there."

Sam nodded. "Sure, sure. Just keep doing what you're doing, I'll be right back!"

Sam hurried to grab the kit, and Mikaela refocused on her task, now finished with the energon lines and focusing on the coolant ones (can't let those run try, or his systems will overheat and crash and we're right back where we started), keeping her hands busy and desperately trying to drown out the little voice that kept reminding her that, even if she had her tools, Jazz was far beyond her meager skills to save.

Sam ducked next to Bumblebee, quickly finding the med-kit open on the ground near Bee's head. He snapped it closed, but froze at a small, almost musical whining sound.

He heard it once before, in Mission City, after Starscreams missiles had blown off Bumblebees legs.

Sam looked, and Bumblebee's optics were flickering on and off, his head lifting and falling as if he was trying to regain consciousness but not able to quite do so. Sam dropped the med kit and immediately moved closer.

"Bee, Bee, it's alright, Mikaela fixed you up, and Ratchet's going to finish it later, okay?" he said softly, placing his hands on his friend. Bumblebee shook his head, and weakly pointed toward the trees. Sam shook his head.

"No, I'm not leaving. I'll help Mikaela with Jazz, and then I'm coming back here, alright?"

Bee made the weak whining sound again, before his head fell down, optics still flickering. Seeing his friend like this, so weakened, nearly broke Sam's heart. He patted Bumblebee one more time. "I promise, I'll be right back."

With that, Sam lunged with the med-kit, willing himself to carry the blasted thing as fast as physically possible, not noticing that the Decepticon had been watching him.

Onslaught crossed his arms and watched the new male human running from one mech to the other, like a panicked bird or something. Now where did THIS human come from? Really, you turn around for five minutes and the flesh bags started multiplying like crazy.

He considered catching the creatures and just stepping on them to be done with it, but decided against it. They were quick creatures, when they had the sense to run, and it wasn't worth the effort to chase them down on foot. Besides, they couldn't go anywhere, not out there. There was no safe haven for them. Sure, they were trying to help the downed Autobots, but Onslaught had seen enough battle damage to know they were both beyond the human's abilities to save.

Let's see, one yellow Autobot dead or dying, one silver bot following him, two humans running around like ants whose nest had been disturbed, one Elita just now returning to the waking world, and all of her Aces having been played, exposed, and dealt with.

Life was good.

Elita was pushing herself up again, and Onslaught stalked over to her. Without a word he grabbed her by the back of her helm, pulling her up until the tips of her feet only brushed the tips of the grass. He swung her around so she'd have a perfect look of the fate of her comrades.

"This is your entire fault, you know," he told her, holding her still and letting her absorb the sight. "Had you done as I told you, only you would have had to die. Your sacrifice might have even left me in a good enough mood to spare the boy. Instead, you insisted on being clever and bringing in more Autobots, and even humans, and for what? One human of no value to anyone, not even his own people?

"Your comrades died for _nothing_, Elita. Not even the humans will be allowed to leave this place alive."

Onslaught slammed Elita face first into the ground, and she barely had time to cry out before she was muffled by the earth.

"Four lives on your head Elita. Or rather, four _more_ lives you sacrificed so easily to me. It's almost a pity you were an Autobot. Sometimes, I can almost think you would have made a good Decepticon. You are certainly merciless enough."

Onslaught pulled Elita back up, and she spat out the dirt in her mouth. Before she could say anything, Onslaught slammed her down again, again, and again.

Up on the slope, Nolan held his sister close, burying her face in his chest so she wouldn't see what was happening to Elita. She held his shirt in her fists, trembling and crying softly. Nolan held her close and tight, to comfort her and comfort himself, burying his face in her hair because he couldn't bear to watch either.

How, how, how had it all gone so bad, so quickly?

Onslaught dropped Elita's head, and kicked her in the side, forcing her on her back. Before she could get up, Onslaught pinned her down with a foot on her stomach, recreating the position from before the others interfered.

"There we go, right back where we started," he observed gleefully. Elita looked up at him, optics flickering as she tried to stay conscious. Keeping a knee on Elita, Onslaught knelt down so she'd be able to hear him perfectly.

"You know, when I think of it, I'm almost glad you brought in friends. I'll enjoy this, but maybe I won't kill you just yet. Perhaps instead, I should make you watch as I tear their still pulsing sparks from their bodies, rip their plating from their bodies while they're still alive."

"You monster," Elita spat out. Onslaught chuckled.

"Monster? Hardly. How would doing that be any different than what you did to my team?"

"That…that was self…defense. You sought…to kill or cap…capture me," she forced out. "What you want…is torture. I would have…have never…been so sadistic and need…needlessly cruel."

Onslaughts voice became low and dangerously calm. "The only difference between what I've done to your team, and what you did to mine, is that you lacked the power and force to be so visceral about it.

"You used traps and diversions to separate us so you could pick us off one by one. I saw my gestalt members remains, Elita. I saw what you did to them:

"Blast Off was crushed under a rock slide you buried him under and left to drown in his own fluids.

"Swindle was burned alive by the acid trap you left behind for him.

"And I saw you shoot Vortex, point blank, in the head when he was trapped and helpless in that mire.

"Don't you dare convince yourself you are better than me, Elita, or that you do not have your own sins. You are merely better at hiding them."

"I gave…I gave them all a chance…to surrender, Onslaught…" Elita choked out. "They knew…that they could not…win against me. That they…that they were outmatched. I gave…gave them so many chances, all…all that I could af…afford. I did…I did not wish…to take such…drastic measures. But…I was left with…no choice. _They_ left me with no choice."

Broken as she was, defeated as she was, Elita still had the gall to pin Onslaught with an accusing glare. "The only…reason you…hate me so is…is because I…I defeated your gestalt by myself. You…can't let…that humil…humiliation lie."

Onslaught snarled and back handed Elita's face, crunching the cheek plating.

"You think this is about nothing but a BRUISED EGO?!" He yelled, outraged at the femmes audacity. "This goes beyond war and factions, Elita!"

He slammed his hand around Elita's throat and crushed it under his hand, eliciting pained sounds from her.

"Gestalts fight together, die together! They each suffered and perished alone and forsaken, for _nothing_! They didn't even have the dignity of dying on the battlefield, or the honor of losing their lives for a purpose! And you were the one to deny them that!

"THAT is why you must be punished. THAT is why you must be made to suffer and die in humiliation and agony! THAT is why your comrades must suffer, as my comrades suffered! An optic for an optic Elita: justice in its purest form."

Elita stared up at him with the blankest expression to ever grace her face, optics wide and unwavering. Onslaught had the distinct impression of someone having an epiphany of the painfully obvious.

He wanted to snort in disgust. If she wanted to pretend she never had any comprehension of her crimes, then that was her prerogative.

"If you don't mind, femme, I'm done with talking."

Onslaught moved his knee out of the way to make way for the fist.

Elita's entire body flailed with the hit, gargled cries of pain emitting from her vocalize. Onslaught hit her again and again, memories fueling each hit.

Snobbish but refined Blast Off.

Hot headed Vortex.

Silver tongued Swindle.

Even Brawl, though he had been lost on Earth under Starscreams command and whose death had nothing to do with Elita. Onslaught hit her extra hard for him anyway, relishing each pained cry from her as interest in her payment for her crimes.

Onslaught reared his fist as far as he could for a good solid, possibly fatal (he didn't particularly care anymore) hit to the head.

He was stopped by a large, iron grip on his wrist.

Onslaught looked up at the one who dared interrupt him, but whatever scathing threat he had died in his vocalizer when he saw their face.

Before the shock could wear off, he found himself being lifted – literally! – off of the femme and bodily thrown a across the field. This was the sort of manhandling the large Decepticon had never experienced before, used to being the largest one in the fight, combiner teams notwithstanding.

Just before he hit the ground, Onslaught regained his faculties just long enough to think _I really shouldn't be surprised that, of all people, the one to show up at the last minute would be Optimus Prime._

Onslaught hit the ground and kept sliding back, creating a wide dirt patch where he tore up the grass. As soon as he stopped, he was greeted by the unmistakable whirring of a cannon powering up, and the muzzle of said weapon being shoved in his face.

Oh. He's seen this guy before too.

"You so much as twitch, I blow your head off," Ironhide growled.

Meanwhile, a green Search and Rescue Hummer pulled up next to the not-quite-frantic-but-getting-close-to-it Mikaela and Sam, her with her hands in Jazz's back, Sam handing her whatever she asked for from the Med kit. Ratchet felt a surge of pride for his student and her ability to keep her head on even in a crisis as he swiftly transformed.

"Move over," Ratchet ordered as he knelt down on Jazz's other side. She shook her head.

"No, can't yet, I need to reconnect the wires before, before they spark a fire or corrupt his coding, just need a minute-"

The CMO stopped her rambling with a finger on her shoulder.

"You've done enough Mikaela. You bought him time and kept him online. But I need you to see to Bumblebee right now."

From a special compartment Ratchet pulled out a rectangular metallic box nearly a foot long.

"There's a condensed energon ration in there," he explained, handing it to Sam to hold. "You two, get Bumblebee awake and get him to eat it, it might be enough to let him get out of here under his own power."

"Eat it? Bumblebee doesn't have a mouth, how's he supposed to *eat* it?"

"…Mikaela, YOU make sure Bumblebee eats it. Sam, just…do whatever she tells you."

"Um, yes sir doc."

"R-right, sure, alright Ratchet. C'mon Sam, help me carry this thing."

Sam and Mikaela worked together to carry the heavy ration towards their yellow friend. That done, Ratchet focused on Jazz – and swore.

The damage was bad, very bad, but at least Mikaela had been there to keep it from getting worse, and kept him reasonably stable. Ratchet dove right in, his fingers transforming into a plethora of tools and minute instruments as he attacked the wound, repairing as much as he could and even pulled out several redundant wires and valves built into his systems, tossing aside the ones too damaged to save. Because frag it if he was going to lose the idiotic Solstice twice!

* * *

"Holy crap."

A succinct yet appropriate description for the current events, or so Nolan believed.

"That's Optimus?" Aine asked, entranced by the imposing figure standing over Elita. She had thought Elita was tall, and up until now she had been the tallest Autobot she had met. But Optimus must have had at _least_ a good five feet on her, if not more. His size, and almost terrifying display of anger and power as he pulled Onslaught off of Elita and tossed him aside like a rag doll was juxtaposed with how gently he lifted Elita's upper body, holding her close like she was made of delicate crystal.

Aine's romantic heart was already melting.

"Where'd they all come from all of a sudden?" Nolan asked rhetorically. A moment of consideration, then he used Aine's shoulder to stand. "Help me get down there, please?"

"What?? Jazz said to wait here!"

Nolan waved a hand down at the field. "The fights pretty much over, and I think Jazz is still unconscious. We might as well save them the trouble of finding us."

"Sam knows where we are."

"Aine, for all I know, that guy has all the directional sense of a turnip. At least Jazz had a super advanced GPS in his head."

"Well…okay fine. But we're going slowly! I don't want you hurting your leg even worse."

"Yes nurse."

* * *

Elita hovered between the waking world and unconsciousness, seeing nothing, hearing faint noises as if from far away and covered in cotton. Vaguely, she felt herself being lifted, being held, and one of the noises came closer, though it was still too muffled to make out the source, or even what it actually _was_. Slowly though, the sounds became sharper, clearer, and as she slowly rose from the darkness again, her senses followed.

There were voices around her.

She was mostly still reclining.

There was an arm under her shoulders and a hand supporting her head, tilting her face upwards.

And…oh Primus, when was the last time she felt THIS bad?

She ached, she hurt, there were pains sharp and dull all over her body, and she was pretty sure there were worrisome cracks somewhere. She was hurting in so many places she felt more like a giant fracture than a person. She just wanted to fall back into blissful recharge where she didn't hurt anymore.

"_Elita?"_

What? That voice, familiar, quiet, pleading …she _knew_ that voice! But, it couldn't really, could it? He wasn't supposed to be there, wasn't he?

"_Elita, wake up. Please, wake up. Look at me, talk to me, Primus please, do _something_, I need you to wake up! Elita…"_

The voice was gentle, but there was an undercurrent of urgency and even fear. That was what cut through the fog more than anything.

Elita flickered her optics on and off again rapidly, adjusting to the bright light and trying to focus. She onlined them fully at last, and even though she had been expecting/hoping for it, she was still almost dumbfounded when she was met by what was quite possibly the most wonderful vision of her (relatively) recent life.

"Optimus…?"

The Prime visibly sagged in relief, as if he had just let go of the mountain he'd been carrying on his shoulders, and held her a little closer. She honestly felt like he was never going to let her go. She was also honestly, completely fine with that.

"Thank Primus, you're alright," he said quietly. "I thought…you were scaring me, Elita. Ratchet said you weren't critical, but you weren't waking up and I…"

Elita lifted a hand slowly upwards, and lightly touched Optimus' face. He took her hand and gently held it there, off-lining his optics as she traced his face, optics, audios.

"Optimus? This is really you, not a dream or hallucination?" she asked, cupping his face. He turned a little and nuzzled her palm.

"I promise you Elita, this is real. I'm sorry, but I had no choice but to override your orders for Ironhide and myself to simply wait for you to come in your own time." Optimus onlined his optics with a dry grin which Elita returned.

Later he would explain how he and Ironhide had left base almost as soon as Ratchet was on the plane. How they broke every speed limit between here and Tranquility to make it as soon as they did. How it was more luck than skill that they managed to avoid being noticed by nearly everyone. And how Ironhide had to 'convince' the one officer that caught them that trying to chase them down for speeding would be a Bad Idea of the Worst Kind.

But, that wasn't the here or now. There were more pressing matters on Elita's mind.

"Jazz?"

"Still alive. Ratchet's working on him now."

The statement was punctuated by the ear-splitting, drawn out screech of ripping metal, and both commanders couldn't help but flinch. Apparently, Ratchet was getting creative regarding as to how to cover the huge hole in his patients back.

"Bumblebee?"

Optimus glanced up, and Elita could see him smile in mild amusement. "Alive, awake, and being forced fed half an energon ration by his extremely determined but well-meaning friends."

"Onslaught?"

Optimus' face darkened. "He is being kept down by Ironhides cannons. He's not going anywhere before we let him."

Elita turned her head around to look, and it was as he said: Onslaught, on his back, with Ironhide pinning him with both cannons at his head and looking like he very much wanted to hurry up and pull the trigger already, repeatedly. The red femme had no doubts that Onslaught would lose his head if he so much as blinked in a way the Weapon Specialist didn't like.

Optimus threaded an arm under Elita's knees, and lifted her as he stood. Elita rested against him, but kept her optics on the strangely docile Onslaught. Having a fragged-off Ironhide standing over you did wonders for patience, apparently.

Speaking of which, the Topkick made a grinding sound in this volcalizer, their equivalent of a cleared throat.

"Much as I'd hate to interrupt, do I have permission to shoot the slagger already?"

Optimus hesitated for half a breath.

"No, Ironhide. He is injured, unarmed, and out-numbered, and we don't kill our prisoners."

"We don't exactly have a brig to throw him in, Optimus," the black mech pointed out with a raised optic ridge.

"_You think this is about nothing but a BRUISED EGO?! This goes beyond war and factions, Elita!"_

"True, but I'm sure the government will be more than happy to assist with that, if it meant keeping a dangerous Decepticon under lock."

"_Gestalts fight together, die together! They each suffered and perished alone and forsaken, for nothing!_

A snort. "I think they'd be even happier if we went ahead and put him out of everyone's misery."

"_THAT is why you must be punished. THAT is why you must be made to suffer and die in humiliation and agony! THAT is why your comrades must suffer, as my comrades suffered!_

"I will not have us sinking to their level, Ironhide. But seeing as it is Elita who has dealt with him the most, his ultimate fate should be her decision."

"_An optic for an optic Elita: justice in its purest form."_

"Then allow me to fight him alone."

Optimus stared down at her in open shock, as did Ironhide. Even Onslaught looked surprised, lifting his head just high enough to look at her.

"Excuse me?" Optimus said. Elita pushed against his chest, and Optimus obligingly set her down on her feet.

Elita half turned to look Optimus in the optic.

"I have finally realized that this is something I must finish on my own. He and I will finish our fight, one on one, with no interferences, and no interruptions, as we should have from the very beginning. I only ask that, no matter what happens, you do not allow anyone else to interfere.

"I mean that Optimus: no matter _what_."

Optimus looked at her silent for several long seconds, struggling with her request, the implications of her terms, and knowing how damaged she was already. Elita met it steadily, with no sense of doubt or hesitation. After a small eternity, Optimus gave a small nod.

"Very well."

She smiled.

"Prime! You can't expect her to keep fighting looking like that!" Ironhide protested.

Optimus kept his optics on Elita even as he answered Ironhide. "I already said Onslaughts ultimate fate was to be Elita's decision. Even if I don't yet understand her exact reasons, I trust her judgment in this wholly."

Elita was remembering all over again why she loved the mech.

"Ratchet is going to weld both your afts to the ceiling," Ironhide grumbled, but even so he stepped (slowly) away from the Combaticon. Onslaught pushed himself back into a standing position as Elita came a little closer, just outside his arms-length. No one missed the slight weave of her step though.

"Is this your perverse brand of generosity?" He asked. "No matter what happens, I'm already a dead mech walking. There is no way the Autobots will let me leave this place alive after killing their precious leaders own lover."

Elita kept her expression carefully neutral as she responded. "You still have the option of surrender, Onslaught. Say the word, and you need not fear death this day."

"I don't 'fear' death!"

The corner of Elita's mouth quirked up. "I know that. But, not fearing death is not the same as wanting to die, and I am reasonably certain you would prefer to live. However, the fact remains that you only have two options left."

Elita held up her hands as if weighting Onslaughts choices.

"On the one hand, you have assured safety as our prisoner. We do not kill, torture, or mistreat our prisoners, and while you may scoff at such 'softness', I cannot imagine you would insist for otherwise. But if you take this choice, I will forever remain outside your grasp, and you will never have another chance to kill me and avenge your gestalt. You would have to learn to let that anger and hatred go, or drive yourself mad.

"On the other hand, you have this final fight against me, already injured and tired, with the promise of no intervention, not even from those only three steps away. I won't even take back any of my weapons."

"Elita!" Optimus exclaimed, taking half a step forward. She glanced back, and he step back again, looking like he was already regretting his promise.

"You will honestly fight me as you are, disarmed and everything?" Onslaught questioned in disbelief. Elita nodded.

"It will be almost as if this interruption never happened. This is your last, best chance to avenge your gestalt, but at the possible cost of your life if you cannot escape the wrath of at least three fully functioning Autobots.

"These are you choices. There is nothing else. Think carefully, for you will not have any more chances. But, the true choice, the true deciding factor, is this: is avenging your gestalt worth it?"

Onslaught looked at her carefully, trying to pull out the trick, any hidden meanings she might have. His head moved minutely as he looked at Ironhide, Optimus, Ratchet still bend over Jazz, and the now awake Bumblebee, slowly sitting up with the humans around his knees. His gaze turned downwards in deep thought for several seconds. All the while Elita, and everyone, waited patiently for his answer.

When he finally gave it, it was low, but sure.

"Yes."

Onslaught threw a punch straight at Elita's head with enough force to snap her neck cables if it made contact. Elita _twitched_, and suddenly she was to the right. He tried to hit her with his other fist, she _twitched_, and suddenly she was to the left.

Right, right, left, down, right, lean back, left…while Elita would occasionally have to step back to avoid the full blow, she was continuously able to avoid them with liquid grace. To Onslaughts immense frustration, while she would occasionally deflect his fist with a quick hand, she was remaining almost entirely, infuriatingly passive. It was looking more like a choreographed dance than an actual fight.

Ironhide crossed his arms and watched almost incredulously. After taking such a beating, how could Elita possibly be still able to move so _fast_?

He glanced back at Ratchet to see if the Hummer had noticed the fight yet. He was still bent over Jazz, and apparently putting on the finishing touches of his repairs, welding on several pieces of greenish-yellow plating on the saboteurs back. Coincidentally, the medic was almost missing some plating from both shins and one shoulder.

But it wasn't Ratchets self-cannibalism that arrested the Topkick's attention now, but the two young humans beyond him: a boy with a hasty splint on his leg, and a shorter girl that shared a strong resemblance to him. They were both watching the fight with expressions of shock, fear, and/or confusion, it was hard to tell. Probably all three.

_So these are the kids Elita 'kidnapped' and caused such a fuss over, eh?_ he thought. The boy, Nolan presumably, was being supported heavily by his sister and trying to keep as much weight off his hurt leg as he could. Ironhide felt a cold rage grow within him as he considered how the boy's leg had most probably been hurt. Or rather, by whom.

Ironhide cast a quick look at the fighting bots – Elita deflected a fist, stepped in close, and thrust her hand hard upwards, cracking the underside of Onslaughts chin with the heel of her hand and a sickening CRACK! – before going over to the young humans. The girl – Aine was it? Humans had such weird names sometimes – was still enthralled by the fight. But her brother had noticed him almost immediately, and was watching him approach carefully. Not fearfully, so much as cautiously curious and maybe a little nervous. Ironhide had to give him points for staying aware of his surroundings and remaining calm if cautious.

"How long have you been standing there?" Ironhide asked, crossing his arms again. The girl started and seemed to notice him for the first time.

"Just got here maybe a minute ago," Nolan answered. He looked back at Elita's fight, and both his face and tone took on a decidedly darker, icier edge.

"You know, I get the whole 'advanced alien species-slash-culture' thing, but humor my pitiful organic brain for a second and explain to me what the point is in the cavalry coming if you're not going to bother helping??"

Ironhide raised an optic ridge, not sure if he was amused or just annoyed by the mouthy teen.

"You're pretty brave for someone so small and easily stepped on," he noted, readjusting his arms and just so happening to give a lovely view of his arm-mounted cannons.

"What my brother means," Aine added quickly, "is that we don't understand what's going on now. I mean, why is Elita still fighting Onslaught alone?"

Ah, so the boy was the Guardian/Fighter and the girl was the Diplomat/Mediator. One ready to get into a fight or argument for what he saw as an injustice, the other ready to step in and smooth things over before it escalated too much. Ironhide never had much use for the type (his cannons worked wonders in 'negotiations,' thank you very much), but he could grudgingly admit that it was a useful skill…sometimes.

He shrugged. "Frag if I know. You probably have a better idea than I do. You've spent the last three days with her. _I_ just got here."

Aine actually giggled a little. Nolan just looked more confused. Ironhide cycled an extra long 'breath' of air, his version of a sigh.

"Look, Elita insisted she had to finish this on her own, and Prime is letting her for Unicron knows why. She said she 'finally realized she had to do this alone' or something like that. Frag if I know why Onslaught jumped at the chance. He loses, Elita kills him. He wins, _we_ kill him. He knows he's slagged either way."

"It's personal."

Mech and boy looked at Aine, the girl looking out into space as comprehension dawned on her.

"Elita, she…she killed his team – gestalt? – anyway, she killed them before she got here, to Earth. She said Onslaught was only mad because she embarrassed him, but that never made much sense to me. I think this is a lot more personal that Elita gave him credit for, and she gets it now, maybe. I think…I think maybe she's letting have closure."

A moment of contemplative silence.

"…You're getting this from what again?" Ironhide asked.

Aine looked a little embarrassed, and Nolan looked offended and mad on her behalf, but the girl just shrugged. "Just from lot of thinking over the small things. It's hard to explain. It's more like a gut feeling, I guess. I mean, everything else aside, I honestly believe that people are people and are generally the same. Wait, not 'same' so much as some stuff being universal. Like the need for closure, and feeling guilty for not being to help those you cared about."

Onslaught? Feeling guilty? Maybe when the sun exploded and rained down grease cookies.

"That's not important right now. Just, wait with Bumblebee or something, and stay out of the way."

The repairs were ugly, but functional, and Ratchet wouldn't have to worry about anything falling loose on the way back to base. He had even siphoned some energon into Jazz's takes from his own fuel line to give the Solstice enough energy to bring him online without danger.

"Ugh….ow." Jazz groaned, lip components twisting in phantom pain. He froze, and frantically tried to push himself up only to be stopped by Ratchets hand in the middle of his back. "Mikaela! Where's Mikaela?!"

"Easy there, she's fine," Ratchet told him, easing him back down to the ground with a gentle but firm push on his back. "A little bruised, but fine. She's looking after Bumblebee right now with Sam."

"I wanna see her fo' myself."

"And you will – but not now! She's busy with Bumblebee, and YOU'RE not going anywhere right now. We'll probably have to have Ironhide drive you out in his bed, seeing as you're in no condition to transform."

Jazz grumbled something unpolite, but didn't try to get up again. "An' Elita?"

"Alive, in better condition that _you_ were, and with – WHAT THE FRAG!!"

While Ratchet had to be talked down from a fit of epic proportions ("What the _frag_ where you _thinking_ letting her fight like that, Prime!"), Elita and Onslaught went on with their dance as if nothing else existed. No angry Medics, no concerned Primes, no confused children, they all faded away into irrelevancy. All that mattered was this fight, the here and the now. They attacked, defended, parried, ducked and countered with practice speed and skill born from millennia of battle. Nothing could intrude in this, not thoughts, not allies, not even weapons separated them, fighting as they were with bare hands. Any lingering frustration Onslaught had felt at Elita's comparative passivity bled away as he dedicated all his energy into the next hit, the follow up block and counter. Elita matched him move for move, rarely striking back but making each one count when she did.

But the balance of power could only last for so long, and it would swiftly tilt in the larger and stronger Onslaughts favor if something didn't change.

Fortunately, one did not become the leader of a guerilla fighting force without proficiency for quick thinking and creativity.

Onslaught attempted to grab her, but Elita ducked and sidestepped, and it only a few liquate moves that no one could be entirely sure they saw, she was somehow behind the towering mech, one small hand on the middle of his broad back.

Onslaught tried to turn to face her, but she matched his pace as easily as if she could read his mind. He spun twice, and then abruptly changed directions hoping to surprise her with the sudden shift and catch her. But he was too big to move quickly enough, and in the second it took for him to stop and rebalance that was when she acted. Onslaught, to his horror, could feel the femme jump onto his back and literally climb up his back. In a moment of almost-panic and clarity he managed to reach back and grab the hand gripping the missile launcher on his shoulder and pulled her over, throwing her over his shoulder like a whip. The snake-like strike meant for his neck missed its mark, and instead her fingers found his right optic.

Onslaught howled in pain as Elita landed heavily on her back. She drew up her knees and leaped back to her feet, remaining down in a crouched position. But Onslaught wasn't paying attention. His hands were on his face and he stumbled back a step as if trying to get away from the pain. This was her best chance to end the fight, and Elita was going to take it. From her coiled position she leapt up as fast and deadly as a mongoose against a viper, hand coming up as flat as a blade for his neck

But Onslaught was no stranger to pain, and not even a lost optic could blind him with agony for long. Even as Elita closed the distance, Onslaught reached down and pulled out the dagger he still carried.

It was over in the space of a heart beat.

Elita cried out in pain, leaping off and away from Onslaught, staggering back until she was well out of arms reach. Her left hand gripped at her shoulder, the blade that was sunk in to the hilt to far back for her to remove alone. The dagger had penetrated deep into the joint, and only Onslaughts rush had kept him from cutting her arm clean off. As it was, her right arm dangled useless at her side, already turning brick pink in her own energon.

Onslaught rubbed his neck, and chuckled darkly.

"You've been so obsessed with my neck this whole time, I have to admit I was expecting something worse than a pinched wire."

Elita said nothing, still and unresponsive as a statue, the lazily blinking red locater light on the handle dimly illuminating the fins of her helm once a second or so. The light was showing more signs of emotion than she was right now. Even as Onslaught moved closer, she held her ground, optics never wavering.

Ironhide, on the other hand, had lost the already tenuous hold he had on his patience. He raised his cannons and fired them up to blow the Decepticons head off because promise or no he wasn't going to just stand aside and let the slagger lay one more hand on her –

– only to have a large silver hand push it back down again.

"Stand down Ironhide." Optimus ordered calmly. "I already gave my word that I would allow no interference."

The Topkick stared at him incredulously.

"Are you completely insane?!" he bellowed. "This has gone far enough! You can't tell me you value your word over Elita??"

"I already said that I trust Elita's judgment in this matter, and I still do. We will not interfere."

For the first time their very long friendship, Ironhide wanted to just turn and shoot his own commander. How could Optimus, of all mechs, just stand by and let the femme he loved, the one he supposedly wanted for his sparkmate, be mercilessly executed as he only stood by and looked…

And look…

And look shockingly calm and unperturbed by current events. Normally that'd be a sign of a sparkless mech of Megatrons caliber, except that just 30 seconds ago the Prime had been so rigid Ironhide was half waiting for his armor to crack, and looking about ready to jump in the middle of the fight himself, just barely restrained by the iron will that was Elita's request. Come to think of it, in spite of a useless arm and a failed attack (whatever the Pit she was trying to pull off with the neck thing), Elita wasn't looking too concerned herself, and not in an "I-know-I'm-slagged-but-I'm-not-about-to-admit-it" sort of way either. She was almost completely helpless, but the locater light on the blade was showing more activity than she was, as the transformed GILA bore down on her like a mountain…

…and fall heavily to the ground as his knee gave out.

_What the slag??_ Was Onslaughts first thought, catching himself before he went face-flat in the dirt. His confusion was only compounded when he discovered his arms and fingers were trembling under the strain.

He looked up at Elita, the femme only watching impassively. He tried to get up again with a grunt, but something groaned with an ugly screeching sound and gave out in his knee. His leg failed him again and he fell back down. In dawning horror he realized that he couldn't feel his leg at all, there was a buzzing in his audios, his hands wouldn't stop shaking, and his scanners were fritzing like he was in the middle of an electrical storm. Experimentally, he tried to make a fist. The hand curled, but it was a weak and pitiful fist, and the fingers were trembling more violently. Throughout his body, he could almost feel small mechanisms beginning to skip, stop, speed up, all mismatched and out of line.

"What…what did you DO to me?!" Onslaught demanded.

Elita said nothing, did nothing. But Onslaught, for the first time, noticed the long, sharp needles protruding from each of Elita's fingertips on her dangling hand. Except that the middle one was only as third as long as the others.

His hand flew up to his neck, where he had felt the sharp, annoying pain from before. It wasn't a pinched wire as he had first assumed; it was the needle tip, broken off and embedded deep into his vital fuel lines.

"Virus A5-347, Class Omega, Codename: 'Entropy'," Elita explained in a quiet voiced that echoed across the field. "It attacks the sensor and motor systems first, disabling movement and communications. The process can take hours or minutes, depending on the entry point, the neck and its vital lines being the most efficient. Motor controls are lost, and the CPU automatically attempts to stop the virus by shutting down the affected areas, hence the ensuing paralysis."

As if demonstrating, Onslaughts arm gave and he fell heavily face forward, the edges of his vision already becoming fuzzy and dark to match the muffling buzz in his audios.

"The process is not painful," Elita continued. "But it ends with the complete erasure of memory banks and programming, leaving nothing but an empty shell unable to support the spark within it. Deactivation follows shortly after."

Onslaught growled as he forced his remaining, if violently trembling, working arm to push him up by the elbow. He glared at Elita hatefully.

"W-w-why are you bother-bother-bothering to tell me th-this?"

He snarled as his vocalize started to short out, as if just speaking in complete sentences was a task too hard to bear.

Elita came a little closer and, to Onslaughts enragement, actually _kneeled down_ to talk better, as if she was trying to be kind!

"I carry with me the antivirus. There is still a chance for you to live."

"Y-you d-d-d-d-don't give UP on that, d-d-d-do you?"

"This fight is over, Onslaught. I am offering you one last chance to live. I can do no more for you."

Onslaught glared at her, willing for his hate to burn holes in her head. "F-f-fraaag OFF, you g-g-g-liiiitch! I would rather d-d-die than be in-indebted to y-yooouu!"

Elita didn't look surprised. She looked, almost resigned, as if she had been expecting that answer. What Onslaught wasn't expecting, was the quirk at the corner of her lip. She was…amused?

"W-w-w-whaaat's so funny, Auto-to-tobot?"

She shook her head. "Nothing, really. I was just remembering, when I tried to offer Vortex a last chance to surrender, when he was trapped in the mire…he said almost the exact same thing."

Behind the visor, Onslaughts optics widened.

With effort, Elita stood, turned her back on him, and walked away.

Onslaught watched after her incredulously, calm as could be, confidant that the fight was over. She didn't think he was a threat anymore. She didn't think he, the one who came so close to turning her into a pile of scrap metal, was NOT a threat anymore!

This was…this was…insulting! Humiliating! And unforgivable!

"D-don't…"

He pushed himself up on sheer will power.

"…turn…"

His auto-targeting was down, so he held the missile launcher steady himself.

"…YOUR BACK ON ME!"

Elita half turned just as Onslaught fired off the last missile, arm coming up in defense.

And just as the missile left its launcher, five other Autobots already on a hair trigger opened fire. Onslaught was assaulted from plasma guns and solar cannons from all sides, again and again covered in fire and plasma until he glowed as hot as a sun, hit over a dozen times easily in the span of a few seconds.

Everyone was completely silent, Ironhide, Bumblebee, Ratchet, Jazz, Optimus and Elita all still with their weapons up and ready to shoot more. But it was clearly moot point: Onslaughts husk he teetered for a few seconds before falling over, his entire body melted beyond recognition.

Elita lowered her wrist pistol and just watched the body smolder and cool with an unreadable expression. Behind her, the slope boasted a new clearing, a small crater blown apart. The missile had missed its mark by a good ten feet, its issuer unable to even steady himself for the brief few seconds. She hadn't even needed to dodge.

"Such a waste," she said quietly.

"Elita!"

The femme turned, and to her surprise finally noticed two new faces with Bumblebee.

"Nolan? Aine? What are you doing here?" she asked as she came over, trying to hurry but having to walk gingerly (oh yeah, she was going to be feeling this in the morning). "Is something wrong?"

Aine waved the question off. "No no, we're fine. After everyone else got here, we thought the party was over and decided to go ahead and come down ourselves, save everyone else the trouble of fetching us. What about you? Doesn't that hurt?"

"Not terribly." She said, kneeling down in front of them. "It is not a serious injury."

"Not serious…" Sam said incredulously. "There's a SWORD in your SHOULDER!"

"Nonsense, it is only a knife. There is no need to exaggerate."

Aine rolled her eyes, and the other humans just smirked. But Elita turned her attention to the unusually silent Nolan.

"Nolan, are you alright? Did Onslaught do anything else to you? Do you need anything?"

The boy shook his head, still avoiding Elita's eyes, and frankly giving her a really bad feeling. What was he so afraid of telling her?

"Um, Elita?" he started quietly. "When you get a chance, can we…you know, talk? There's some stuff that I kinda need to apologize for, and…yeah. I mean, I didn't mean…just, yeah."

Elita smiled fondly as the boy fumbled over his words. She reached out with her still working hand and gently wrapped her fingers around Nolan's torso, her thumb gently rubbing against his cheek as softly as she could manage. After a momentary hesitation, Nolan hugged the thumb back.

"I understand. We will speak later in private. There are many things we need to talk about, but first I want you to know that I hold anger over none of it. I am only glad you are safe." Her optics dimmed as she looked at his leg. "I only regret that I was not able to protect you as I should have."

Nolan kept his head ducked down, hiding his face and tightening his hold on Elita's thumb until he nearly threatened to pinch shut the circulatory tubing built within. "Forget it. Me getting caught, and my leg, that was all my fault. I was stupid, I didn't think. You almost died to save me, all because I had to go off and have a pity party for myself. I'm just…I'm so, so sorry for that. God, that sounds so cheap, but I don't know what else to say."

Elita smiled, sincerely touched. She moved her thumb-tip so it was under Nolan's chin, forcing him to look up at her, his eyes shiny and wet.

"I knew what was likely to happen long before I came here. That you are safe now is all that matters, and I have no regrets. I will not allow you to blame yourself for what you could have never been able to predict or avoid."

Nolan smiled a little, and scratched the corner of his eye while surreptitiously wiping away the fluid gathering there. "Elita, if you weren't covered in flesh eating acid I'd totally hug you."

The femme laughed lightly, pleased that Nolan was coming back to his old self.

Aine coughed lightly. "Um, excuse me? Sorry to interrupt, but I think there's someone else who wants to talk to you."

"Ratchet can wait a minute already." Nolan retorted. Aine's smile turned into a sly grin.

"I wasn't talking about Ratchet." She said, and coyly pointed behind the femme.

Elita looked over her shoulder, to see Optimus standing behind her, far away enough to give her privacy as she reunited with the lost boy, but looking quite eager to have his turn.

It was only just then that it fully sunk it for the Femme Commander: it was over. Maybe not the war, maybe not the fighting, but this journey, this waiting, it was OVER. The children were safe, the danger had passed, and on this strange alien world she had finally, finally made it home.

Elita couldn't help it; she smiled and laughed as she got up, joy bubbling up and demanding to be released. She felt like all her pain and exhaustion just evaporated from her. She didn't care if she was a slagging mess, she was almost right where she wanted to be and she was too happy, too euphoric, to care about anything else.

Elita ran two steps forward.

Optimus took one closer and opened him arms to receive her.

The blinking red light on the knife handle blinked rapidly for a few seconds, held, and dimmed.

The hidden bomb detonated and Elita's entire upper body was engulfed in fire and light.

* * *

Reviews are loved and treasured.


	14. Ch 14 Endings

**AN:** Oh WOW! I was just blown away by the response from the last chapter! I don't think I had ever gotten so many reviews so _fast_! It warms my heart, it really does, even if quite a lot of you were distressed by the cliff hanger (as rosegrl234 put it: "NO! NOT ELITA! THEY WERE SO CLOSE TO FINALLY HAVING A MUSHY ROMANTIC SCENE! WHY!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?") XD. Totally made my night.

This chapter got away from me. A lot. The story has taken on a life of its own! And the chapters keep. Getting. Bigger! Someone please, make it stop before it eats my soul! AAAAAHHH!!!

Speaking of which, we're getting close to the end kiddies. After this chapter, there'll only be one left. ;_; Ah well, all good things must come to an end, and when this story wasn't beating me up, I really enjoyed writing it. You guys made it all the sweeter. ^_^

**Disclaimer:** Transformers are not mine, but I do own the DVD. Original inspiration for the story came from Ray of Starlight's "Twin Times the Fun," an excellent read for Lambo Twin's fans.

* * *

Ch. 14 – Endings…

_~Ogden, Utah, 7:50 pm~_

Einstein was really onto something when he started talking about the theory of relativity. The moment when the explosion first went off, that moment alone had lasted for an eternity as she fell flaming to the ground, without even enough time to cry out or realize what had happened. Everyone had moved so very, very slowly, as if they were walking in molasses, their words dulled as if their mouths were filled with cotton.

Then, in the blink of an eye, Nolan was in a hospital, his leg in a cast with Aine sitting in a chair besides him, her small, trembling hand gripping his for comfort.

_Or is it my hand that's shaking, and she's the one comforting me?_ He wondered.

Not that he cared much which it was. He still felt dazed and not entirely there, even nearly two hours after the fact. If anyone asked, Nolan doubt he'd be able to give a clear account of what happened after the bomb first went off.

_The explosion filling his ears, drowning out screaming – Aine's? Optimus'? His own? – the flaming, brightly burning form falling sideways like a sun – just like when she first arrived, fire falling from the sky, how funny – Bumblebee covering him, all of them, protecting them from the splattered energon and shrapnel shooting from the explosion, from her body, her arm had gone flying, pin-wheeling slowly through the air – _

_Ratchet leaning over her, the fire out, she wasn't burning, metal doesn't actually burn, it melts and warps, but doesn't burn, Ratchet is saying something, but his throat is filled with cotton – or was it just his ears? – he can't hear what he's saying, but it's loud and sharp and he's yelling something while wrist deep in Elita's body, Mikaela right with him and the Prime hovering over them until Ratchet barks at him to __back__up__ – _

_Pink liquid everywhere, splattered from the blast, dripping from the cracks and seems, so much of it, killing the grass, brown spots growing larger, the biggest ones smoking in the middle – flesh eating acid and all that, this might be a problem later for someone – _

_Ratchet's the best, the very very best, but he can't save her here, not out here with only the tools he has and the supplies he carries or can cannibalize from himself, he needs to get her somewhere else now right now now now, can't wait because he can't save her here, and where is Optimus going? He HAS to stay here with her, she came so far to see him, he has to stay and – wait, he's a truck? Oh, that makes sense. He's getting a trailer so they'd be able to transport her, but a trailer can't get all the way out here, it's too big, how are they going to move her? You're not supposed to move someone if they're hurt, that's what they say in Drivers Ed. after a car crash and you're not a paramedic, how are they going to move her?_

_He wants to get in closer, see what's happening, but Ratchet motions him away, his lips moving but words dull and muffled like they're coming from far away and he can't understand except she's hurt and she's not moving and her eyes are dark and he wants to know what's happening how bad is it can he help her please please please let me SEE her – _

_He's being carried, doesn't know who, but he's being lifted and carried somewhere, and he strains his neck to keep her in sight, pleading to see her but the words are getting trapped in his throat and come out dull and fuzzy and he can't even understand the words himself – _

_He's inside one of them, but he doesn't remember getting there. The others are there too – Sam, Mikaela, and Aine, and they all look scared and anxious and no one's talking – and they're all together inside of Ratchet – must be Ratchet, he's an ambulance type thing, and it's roomy back here. He moves up to look out the window, and he can see the big black truck with Elita in his bed, but she's too tall to fit easy, they had to scrunch her up to fit, that can't be good, what if it makes her worse? She was hurt so bad, so very bad bad bad, this can't be good, her hand is dangling over the edge and swinging a little as Ironhide rolls over the terrain and he's almost mesmerized by the back and forth motion of her dangling hand – _

_The road is narrow, but it'll lead to the highway, or so he hopes. Optimus is waiting with a trailer – how'd he get it? Doesn't matter, he has it, that's all that matters – and they're moving Elita oh so carefully inside, like she'll break and shatter into a thousand pieces at any moment, and she's all charred and black and her arm is completely gone and so is most of her shoulder Bumblebee is holding that and handing it to Ratchet now, Ratchet's getting in with Elita, keep her alive for a little while longer until they can fly her back to base where he can help her please oh please oh please help her – _

_What? No, no, no no no no NO NO! He has to go with them, he HAS to go with them! This is all his fault, he's the reason Elita's hurt so bad, he has to stay with her! His leg is fine, hurts a little sure, but it can wait! No, no, don't make Bumblebee take him to the hospital, the leg can wait until they're in Tranquility, it's not life threatening! Don't make him stay behind, don't leave him, don't take her away, don't take her away, DON'T TAKE HER AWAY!_

In the end, that was exactly what had happened. And now here he was, in a hospital room in God-knows-where, in a stupid hospital gown, waiting for…he didn't know. Ironhide had been the one to drop them off, being the only one uninjured and able to be spared. Nolan could dimly remember him saying something about waiting, so he figured the Topkick was sitting in the parking lot somewhere.

Nolan couldn't even remember what kind of cockamamie story Sam had come up with – he caught something about a camping trip gone bad, but that was it – before he was rushed to the emergency room and the doctors slapped the cast on his leg. A small part of him was half expecting the police to show up at any minute, tearing their flimsy story to shreds and demanding the truth.

Or worse, the government and/or army. Wouldn't THAT be a perfect ending to today?

"I'm sure Elita's okay," Aine said, breaking through Nolan's darkening mood. She gave his hand a soft sqeeze. "Ratchets the very best medic out of all the Autobots – and probably the Decepticons too! He won't let her die."

"She was blown practically in half!" Nolan snapped. "You really think he's gonna have much choice in the matter?"

"She's also an x-million year old robot who's already survived through a war that older than the human race itself," she countered gently. "She's not going to clock out that easily. Have a little faith in her."

Nolan looked down at his lap, feeling his snappish anger drain away with just a few cool, calm words. She always knew just what to say, didn't she? No matter how stressed he was, she knew just the right thing to say, like cool balm on a burn. When did she become so mature? Since when was she so…grown up?

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"It's just the stress. I don't mind. You've had a really, REALLY bad day," the younger O'Connell said lightly. But Nolan didn't even smile at the joke.

"No, not that. I mean yes, that too, but not just that. I mean, I'm sorry for…everything, actually."

Aine made a questioning sound.

"When you're a hostage, you get a lot of time to think." Nolan explained. He still couldn't look at her, because if he didn't the dam would break and he'd never be able to get through this. Slowly, the words struggled past the boulder in his throat.

"I've been thinking about what you said, back then, about me and, and Dad and what I've been doing to you."

Aine gasped a little. "Nolan, I didn't mean – you're a wonderful big brother! You've always been a wonderful brother! I was just mad, and I wanted to hurt you. You're not nearly as bad as Dad is – "

She stopped, corrected herself.

"- can be, sometimes."

Nolan shook his head. "No, don't apologize for being right. Don't ever apologize for being right." He rubbed the bridge of his nose to hide his eyes. "I should've told you that years ago, a hundred times over." He added quietly.

Aine said nothing, just patiently waited until Nolan was ready to elaborate. After he quietly composed himself, he went on, slowly, haltingly, but determined to say what he had promised himself to say hours before, when he was praying for a chance to survive.

"I meant what I said before. I really do only want the best for you, even if it means giving up something for myself, just so long as you're safe and happy."

Like a high school diploma, or a chance to go to college.

"Everything I was doing, I was doing because I didn't know how else to do it. I just wanted to keep you save as best I could the only way I knew how. I guess that's how I got so…controlling. I was…you were right, I _was_ coddling you, suffocating you, doing what I was doing. Maybe what I was doing was okay back when you were five and thought hunting for unicorns alone in the forest with a butterfly net was a great idea, but not so much when you started to grow up."

Nolan ran his free hand through his hair with a rueful smile. "You weren't supposed to grow up, you know. You were supposed to stay small and cute forever. I watched Mom with you, I knew how to handle a little kid. When you got older, I didn't know how to change with you."

"Well good for you: I still am small and cute." Aine said with a little grin.

Nolan chuckled, but the amusement didn't quite reach his eyes. He still wasn't looking at her, instead looking back to how everything changed five years prior.

"You and Mom are exactly alike, did I ever tell you that?"

Nolan had no idea what possessed him to say that. The thought had flitted across his mind, and had jumped out of his mouth without bothering to get permission first.

"No, you haven't." Aine said, looking startled and confused. "You and Dad don't talk about her at all."

"Well, you are. You don't just look alike either; you think the same, you feel the same, everything."

Now that Nolan had started down that path, he couldn't bring himself to stop. The words kept coming, flooding out, spilling over the dam he worked so hard to build up.

"Mom was the most compassionate, generous, patient person I ever knew. You're like that too. That's why were you able to open your heart to an unknown alien creature when I was running for the baseball bat. Even though you were scared, you couldn't bring yourself to NOT help. Mom probably would have done the exact same thing, probably she would have invited her to the backyard for a luncheon or something.

"That's why I had to get you out of that house."

"Because of Dad?" she asked softly.

"The thing about Dad is, well, he feels…absolutely entitled to everything, even stuff he has no rights too. He's never grateful, and just takes everything for granted. You were too young to remember, and Mom tried to hide them, but I remember the fights. Well, they weren't really 'fights' actually. It was more like Dad being in a tiff about something again and Mom endlessly apologizing and promising to make it better, even when it wasn't even her fault in the first place. It was _never_ her fault, but Dad made her feel responsible anyway, like she was personally responsible for every little thing that upset him, no matter how stupid or minor.

"She used to be so _vibrant_, Aine. She laughed and teased, and made up games, she'd take us to the lake or the movies on a whim, just because she felt like it that day. But, Dad started getting more and more irritable, and it was getting harder and harder to keep him happy and compliant. Mom did everything she could, and it was never enough. She went above and beyond so many times, but to Dad it was never 'above and beyond', it was all just stuff she was supposed to do because it was her duty as his wife. Like how you made breakfast for him that one time as a nice gesture, and he decided to make it another chore for you because it was your duty as his daughter.

"After awhile, I think she just kind of gave up. She didn't smile anymore, didn't laugh…she slept a lot, but she always seemed tired and listless and sad. Like, she used to be so bright and colorful, and she faded to a dull grey.

"But I was so stupid!" Nolan almost shouted. He slammed the heel of his hand to his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut. "I didn't…I saw it happing, but I didn't do anything! I didn't even try!"

His voice was chocking, the boulder growing, trying to stop the flood, but the flood had been long in coming and would not be stopped now, not until it had run its full course.

"I just kept hoping that everything would get better if I just waited, that everything would go back to the way it used to be, all by itself. I didn't…do…anything.

"And one day, Mom…she broke. She couldn't do it anymore. She was so tired and sad, and she couldn't do it anymore."

"Was that when she…" Aine trailed off, not able to bring herself to say it just yet.

Nolan nodded anyway. He leaned his head back and kept his eyes shut, trying to force the tears back down into the well.

"She uh, left a note, that night." He said quietly. "She said she was sorry, and she loved us. She asked me to take care of you. It was kind of her last request. I'd've done it anyway, but I think…I think that's what really drove it home for me. I couldn't afford to be selfish and idle anymore. I wasn't going to fail again. I…wasn't going to let someone else I love get hurt."

So there it was, all out in the open. Nolan had lain himself bare to his sister, more vulnerable than he had ever been in his life. He leaned back against the raised back of his bed, eyes open again and staring sightlessly up at the white ceiling, waiting for her judgment, whatever it may be.

And waited.

The seconds ticked by, but Aine wasn't saying anything, her hand in his as still as a dolls. Nolan felt irrational anger welling up and pushed it back down. He had no right to be upset with her lack of reaction…but why wasn't she saying anything?? Get mad, yell at him, tell him she didn't care, just do SOMETHING!

After a small eternity, he finally dared to turn his head just the slightest to look at Aine at the corner of his eye. Almost immediately his head snapped up.

Aine was reacting after all: head down, shoulder shaking, crying but without sobs, sniffles, or any other sounds associated with tears. She wept instead in absolute silence. Aine almost _never_ cried, since when had she been able to cry so _quietly_?

Or…had she always been crying, and learned silence so as to hide her tears?

"I'm sorry!" Nolan blurted out, sitting up and twisting his body around to reach her. Aw crud, dang it dang it dang it! He was so stupid! He wanted to…he didn't know what he was trying to do, but he hadn't meant to make her cry!

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I should've done it better." He babbled, squeezing her hand and patting her shoulder a little awkwardly. "I'm sorry I threw this all out at you all at once and everything. Aw c'mon, please don't cry anymore, I can't stand it…"

Oh that was SUCH the wrong thing to say!

"I mean, it's okay if you want to cry, I don't mind – no wait! I mean…oh forget it, come over here."

Nolan pulled Aine closer, scooting over and guiding her onto the bed to lie next to him, with him under the sheets and her on top. She curled up close against him, wrapping an arm around his stomach and softly sobbed into his shoulder. Nolan hugged her close, stroking her hair and whispering softly to her, just like he used to do when she was little and had a bad dream.

They stayed like that for a long time, until Aine's racking shoulders finally still and her breathing evened out as the choking sobs faded. Even then they lay together quietly, Nolan stroking her back now the way she liked it as she calmed down.

She sniffed a couple of times, and then rolled back so Nolan could see her face. Her eyes were red, her face splotchy, and Aine used her remaining sleeve to wipe her nose…then belatedly tried to wipe off some of the mucus she left behind on Nolan's maroon shirt, right under the large wet spot.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"Don't be."

"………..I'm exactly like Mom, huh?"

"Yep. It's kinda creepy sometimes. But you definitely got the best parts of her."

"But I'm not _exactly_ like her, you know."

"Well, yeah, but you are a LOT alike."

"No, I mean…oh this is going to sound awful, but I think it's the truth: I think I'm stronger than Mom was."

Nolan lifted his head and gave her a confused look. "Eh?"

She tilted her head up to look at him, her chin on his chest. "I mean, I'm never going to give up like she did. After the last three days, I think I can say that now and mean it. I'm never going to give up, and I'm never going to leave you like Mom did."

Nolan couldn't breathe.

Aine put her head back down, listening to her brother's heartbeat. "I've had a little time to think too. About Mom, what she did…and I know this'll sound bad, but I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive her for it."

"Aine?!"

"I mean it! Don't get me wrong, I still miss her, I still love her, and I still wish she'd stayed with us. But I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive her for what she did to you."

"What _she_ did to _me_?"

"Mom left you a note, right? She could have just left, let everyone believe it was an accident. Maybe write a letter to Dad, if she really wanted her last words. But you were only 13 years old. Bad enough you had to deal with losing your Mom. Why did she have to tell you she killed herself too? What child needs to know that?"

"Maybe she wanted to tell me it wasn't my fault?"

"Didn't stop you from blaming yourself anyway, did it? And you had to carry that burden all by yourself for years. You shouldn't have had to. Mom shouldn't have _made_ you!"

Aine tightened her hold on him, expression angry over the perceived offense. Nolan stared at her in mild shock (Aine? Angry? Check outside for flying pigs, now!), but warmth and affection bloomed in his chest. For once, Aine was being the protective one, getting upset on his behalf, and it honestly startled him how good it felt to be on the receiving end for once. To have someone look at him and say 'it's not your fault.'

Nolan loved his baby sister so much right then.

But it also begged another question.

"So…what happens to us now?" he asked tentatively. Aine twisted her head up to look up at him with a "hm?"

"You and me. Um, that is…can we, you know, go back to before? How we were before we had that fight?"

Aine looked at him for a long time. Slowly, sadly, she shook her head. "Nolan, I love you more than anything, you know that. But what we had before, we'll never have again."

The boy felt his heart break.

"Why not?" he asked, almost pleading.

"Because it's not what I want anymore."

"…………What?"

Aine shifted, removing herself from Nolan to sit up, kneeling on the bed and looking at him straight on. She took a deep breath.

"You said it yourself, you knew how to take care of me and protect me when I was little, and you did great. But you said you didn't know what to do with me once I got older. So, here's a few suggestions:

"I want to be treated with respect, not like a child. Like an intelligent person, who gets asked for input, who gets a say in the big choices – like whether or not we should move.

"I want to be allowed to make my own decisions. I'll welcome advice, I'll listen to experience, but I want to be allowed to make my choices, even, no, especially when they're bad ones. I need to make my own mistakes, or I won't learn.

"I want to be listened to when I have something to say. Not just heard and brushed off, but really listened to. I want to know what I say, what my opinions are, matter.

"I want you to talk to me, and I want to be able to talk to you. I'm not saying we have to spill all our guts about everything – we don't have to throw out privacy – but I want us to stop cutting each other out of our lives in a warped attempt to protect each other.

"I want us to be open with each other. I want us to trust each in the realest sense of the word. I don't want you bottling up everything anymore, and I…I want to be able to confide in you, too."

Nolan sat up. "Wait. You've been keeping me out of the loop too?"

Aine averted her eyes.

"Never mind, we'll talk about it later," Nolan amended. He wanted to know what burden Aine had been carrying for him, but first he wanted to finish this train of the conversation. It was too important to put off any longer.

He leaned back against the pillow with a sigh and rolled his head back, turning Aine's words over in his head. He had always thought he treated her with respect and dignity, and compared to Richard he certainly did. But…perhaps he wasn't as much as he thought.

A whole new dynamic between them, to replace what they had before. Their old relationship was familiar and comfortable…but, from what his sister was saying, it was no longer appropriate. She was growing, becoming more independent, and he hadn't seen it because he was used to thinking of her as a little girl who needed his protection and guidance.

What she wanted most, Nolan realized, was the chance to spread her fledgling wings.

"You want me to listen to you, treat you like an adult, and let you make your own decisions, right?"

"Mm-hm."

"Okay then. I can live with that. I think it'll take me awhile to change, but I'm going to try, okay? You uh, you deserve that much, at least."

The way Aine's expression positively lit up and glowed with her smile was enough to sap all the bad feelings right out of Nolans heart, at least for the moment.

Nolan made a beckoning motion with his hand, and Aine curled up next to him again.

It was a weird feeling, Nolan decided. He felt, not hollow, so much as…light. It was weird and different…but he liked it. It also made his next decision much easier.

"Hey Aine, what happened to our backpacks?"

"…….Are you freaking KIDDING me??!"

Nolan just had to laugh at the disbelieving look of outrage on her face. "It's not what you think. But seriously, where's our stuff?"

Aine rolled her eyes. "If you must know, they're still at the airport, in a locker, _with a lock_. No one's going to steal your money, Mr. Scrooge."

"I wasn't thinking about that. There's something I need to show you."

"Hm? What is it?"

"Something I should've shared with you a long time ago…"

* * *

To Nolan mild surprise, he and Aine managed to fall into a light doze, after talking for over an hour about, everything really – including her panic attacks (and Nolan was still kicking himself for never noticing there was something wrong). The day's activities had finally caught up to them, and they had succumbed to their body's demands for rest. What had awoken Nolan now was the swish and padding of someone opening the door and coming in, only to stop abruptly.

Nolan peeled his eyes opened to see one of the aides, a young woman, in green scrubs and looking a bit awkward standing at the foot of the bed, staring at himself and Aine curled up together.

He waited.

She kept staring.

"………..She's my little sister."

A raised brow.

"Can I help you?" Nolan asked tersely. Seriously, what was going through the aides head? Sicko.

"Um, sorry to bother you, but you've been checked out. The doctors would rather you stay overnight, but you're free to go home if you want."

"Excuse me?"

"A'wha now?" Aine mumbled as she slowly rejoined the world of the living.

"Your uncle Tommy checked you out." The aide explained. "You can come in now sir, they're awake!"

Uncle Tommy? They didn't have an Uncle Tommy!

"Kids! Thank god you're alright! We were so scared when we heard what happened!"

Nolan stared as a youngish man, early to mid thirties he'd guess, with brown hair and eyes came in with a wide smile and shining eyes. He looked similar enough to bare a passing resemblance, but Nolan was a hundred percent sure he'd never seen this man before – his heart was thudding in growing fear at the implications of what this could mean. Before the siblings could do more than sit up, 'Tommy' swooped right over and pulled them both into a bear hug. Any protests and accusations died when the stranger whispered something quick and urgent in both their ears.

"I'm with the Autobots. Play along."

Nolan felt his heart stop.

Aine, who had always been better at adapting to strange situation and going with the flow, smiled and hugged him back. "Uncle Tommy! It's been so long, I almost didn't recognize you! How'd you get here so fast?"

'Uncle Tommy' laughed and pulled away, still keeping a hand on each of their shoulders. "I was in the area already for business. I came right over as soon as I heard. Poor Nolan, I bet you weren't expecting to see me, right?"

The man ruffled Nolan's hair in an affectionate manner, and Nolan's cognitive senses finally caught up enough to play along.

"Uh, yeah, it's been a really long time, um, Uncle Tommy." Then, figuring he might as well do it right, he added "Sorry it took me a minute to recognize you. You've lost a lot of weight."

Tommy burst out laughing, and it sounded like genuine amusement. "What can I say, you're Aunt finally managed to bully me into going to the gym. I'm still waiting for the universe to implode."

"I'll leave you to catch up," the aide spoke up. "I'll get your things."

"'Kay then, thanks miss!" Tommy said quickly with a charming smile.

Everyone waited the few seconds it took for the aide to turn and leave. The moment the door clicked shut behind her, all pretenses dropped faster than a lead rock in a lake.

"Who are you and what do you want?" Nolan demanded coldly.

'Tommy' kept smiling, taking a step back and holding his hands up, face with a pitch-perfect "Love me, I'm innocent!" expression that Nolan was half-convinced he must have practiced in the mirror.

"Chillax Nolan, I'm one of the Good Guys. I'm here to bring you and Aine to Tranquility, where the Autobot base is. Elita's already there, by the way, in surgery. At first the powers that be wanted to send you straight home…"

He did not miss the way Nolan tensed and suck in his breath just a little, or how Aine's hand automatically rested on his.

"…but Prime put his foot down and insisted you be allowed to stay until she woke up at least. And, well, not many people are going to argue with a 28 foot robot."

"What about Sam and Mikaela?" Aine asked.

"Sam's 'cousin' is getting them now. They'll be coming with us too."

"And Ironhide?"

"Knows about the situation. We talked to him before coming in. He's going to be flown back in the plane Optimus managed to wrangle from the military for the time being. The rest of us get to go by helicopter. It's a really cool one too, you'll like it."

"So who _are_ you?" Nolan insisted. "How do you know about the Autobots at all? I thought they were in hiding."

"Well, they are. We're just helping them stay hidden."

"A straight answer would be _great_, you know." Nolan practically growled. "Who. Are. You?"

The man grinned, and shrugged. He pulled what looked like a wallet from his back pocket, only to flip it open and hold it up cop-style to reveal a stylized badge of the likes Nolan had never seen before, with the letters 'RDA' clearly visible.

"Field Agent Thomas Crusoe of the Reconnaissance and Discretion Agency."

Looooong stares.

"Come again?"

"It's a government organization that was put together with the primary objective of keeping the nation's biggest secret a secret." Tommy – Thomas? – Mr. Crusoe? – explained, folding the badge up. "We scope out possible leaks and shut them down, and provide a network for the Autobots to use when one of their own lands, though we've hadn't had much practice with the last one. You kids really threw a wrench in the works when you left with Elita. We've been trying to catch up with you guys for the last three days. And don't get me started on those kids who saw the fight with Onslaught, the higher ups nearly had an aneurism when the video hit YouTube."

"**WHAT?!"**

"Funny story, actually, I'll tell you about it on the way."

* * *

_~ Autobot Base, 10:30 pm ~_

"This is the Autobot base?"

"It was all the military could afford to give them, apparently," Sam explained, sounding just a bit bitter about it. "But the Autobots have been working on fixing it up for themselves. You should have seen it a few months ago, Optimus couldn't even stand up straight in most of the buildings."

_He still can't_, Nolan thought, eyeing the low barracks.

"It's not exactly a five star hotel, but to be fair it was short notice," Tommy – as he insisted on being called – said from the driver's seat. "We were more concerned with finding shelter out in the desert where no one would be able to find them on accident. Nobody comes so far out here without a good reason. Besides, it's only temporary – I heard they're working on getting permission to bring their ship down for more permanent lodging, not to mention supplies and what not still on it. Don't know how that's going though, since it'd be insanely tricky to pull off without half the nation freaking out about an invasion."

"Maybe we can point the other way and yell "Look! A distraction!" when that happens," Sam joked, earning himself a few chuckles.

Currently, the four teenagers were in the back of a black SUV with tinted windows, with Tommy driving them and another agent, Sam's 'cousin', in the passenger seat, a blonde man named Casey Something-impossible-to-pronounce-because-he's-half-Polish and Tommy's partner.

The oversized van slowed to a stop in front of one of the hangers, which Casey informed them had been taken over by Ratchet within two minutes of his arrival and turned into their med bay – such as it what, what with their limited supplies. He and Tommy were going to wait outside while the rest of the kids went in.

"We're not forbidden from going inside, but it kind of makes the Autobots uncomfortable," he explained, spreading his hands in a 'what can you do?' gesture. "They don't really trust us very much, and I can't blame them really. Honestly, we're not entirely comfortable with close proximity either."

"Why? I thought you guys were helping them." Aine asked innocently. Behind her, Sam and Mikaela exchanged glances.

"Let's just say, first contact didn't go over very well." Tommy explained evasively. Sam muttered 'You think?' under his breath.

It was a little awkward, trying to walk with crutches for the first time, and it didn't help that Nolan was impatient, but they managed to get inside. When he did, Nolan stopped dead still.

Aluminum walls had been erected, separating the hanger into two separate rooms, the first one being a waiting room. At least, that was what it looked like. Ironhide, Jazz, Bumblebee, even Optimus were all there, spread out either sitting, laying down (Jazz on his stomach), or obsessively cleaning weapons (Ironhide). They were all completely silent, but with the sound of the door all four of them looked up and pinned the humans with intense stares than made Nolan want to shrink back.

"What's going on?" Sam asked, pushing to the front with Mikaela.

Rather than answering, Jazz immediately got up and came over, Bumblebee right behind him.

"Jazz!" Mikaela exclaimed, walking forward to meet them and Sam following. "You shouldn't be moving, you're self repair systems need more time to-"

Not even paying attention to what she was saying, the silver Solstice scooped her up in his arms and held her close, silencing her. Bumblebee kneeled down and wrapped his hands around Sam, making small sounds. Sam patted his hands comfortingly, and Mikaela hugged Jazz back the best she could. Bumblebee kept one hand wrapped around Sam, and with the other reached up for Mikaeala in Jazz's arms. She reached out with a hand and touched his fingers.

"What happened t'ya Mikki?" Jazz asked, sounding both worried and horrified.

His shock could hardly be blamed. Mikaela was literally covered in purplish-black bruises on almost every piece of visible skin, her face, arms, legs, and the slice of stomach that could be seen when she raised her arms and raised the shirt. On top of that, her right upper arm was wrapped in white bandages. Nolan had been almost horrified when he saw the girl, and Aine had immediately glued herself to her in maternal worry and fuss. Sam himself had glued himself to her hip.

"What, this?" she asked, gesturing the bandage. "A little bit of energon spilled on me. It's nothing too serious, and it doesn't hurt anymore. It's okay, really. And the bruises, well, rolling around with a giant metal person isn't all that good on the skin, it turns out."

"Primus Mikki, I'm really sorry 'bout that. But do me a favor, and don't ever scare me like that again, okay? I just about had a spark-attack when I saw ya on th' field."

Bumblebee made a noise of agreement, and his grip on Sam tightened protectively just a little.

Nolan and Aine stood back, both feeling a little awkward watching such a personal moment. What had happened had clearly shaken them, and to see such alien creatures seeking comfort and the young humans doing their best to give it…it was strangely humbling.

Nolan remembered the one and only time he was held like that, completely encompassed by someone he knew would gladly protect him against anything and everything, and felt a sharp pain in his heart.

"So what about Elita?" he tried. Jazz and Bumblebee looked up as if noticing them for the first time.

"Ratchet squirreled her away in th' med bay few hours ago, and we haven't heard anythin' from him since," Jazz answered. He looked down at the girl still in his arms. "An' before you ask Mikki, he specifically said not to let you in neither. This kinda surgery is over your head, an' Ratchet ain't gonna throw you in the deep end like this."

Nolan felt his stomach twist, and Aine held his hand a little tighter.

Nolan walked/limped past everyone else, Aine trotting after him, and promptly claimed a spot right next to the wall. If he leaned against it, he could hear movement and faint beeping of monitoring machines, occasionally the clicking of tools and moving parts and the familiar clicking-shifting of transformation, which would be Ratchet turning his incredible hands into whatever tool he needed next.

If anything changed, Nolan would be the first to, literally, hear of it.

"Nolan. Aine."

That was quite possibly the deepest voice the boy had ever heard, and the metallic undercurrent gave it an added air of authority and age – or was it the effect of the speaker himself?

For all of a sudden Optimus Prime was right there, kneeling down in front of them (and holy crap was he big), a hand on the floor to balance and the other on his knee, speaking gently but with power. It reminded Aine of iron wrapped in velvet, of a cello being played with leather gloves, of smooth oil and oak wood.

It reminded Nolan of a mix between a badass anti-hero, that narrator guy, and God.

"I wanted to thank you both for everything you have done for Elita," Optimus went one when the kids opted to stare rather than speak. "You were ready to leave your home and risk your lives and well being to help her make it here safely, and you have my deepest gratitude."

Aine opened her mouth to say something, but she couldn't stop thinking of everything Elita had told her of the Prime, of who he was and what he was, how respected and revered he was, how ancient he must be, and it left her overwhelmed and tongue tied.

And holy cow, he was big.

Nolan, on the other hand couldn't even bring himself to look him in the eye, feeling dirty and lower than ever. Gratitude? He was the reason Elita was hurt in the first place, he was more surprised Optimus didn't want to take him out back and step on him!

"Do not blame yourself for what has happened Nolan," Optimus said gently. The boy flinched, but said nothing, even as the Prime continued. "Elita didn't blame you before, and she won't blame you now. I know she would not want to you punish yourself even worse than you have already."

Tentatively, Nolan looked up briefly, questioningly.

"I don't blame you either," the Prime added, and he meant it. "I could never hold you accountable for that which was beyond you to control."

Nolan wished he could believe that.

* * *

_~ 12:40 am ~_

It had been a little over two hours since the humans had arrived, but the situation had yet to change. Ratchet didn't give any updates, the sounds didn't change, and everyone kept on waiting. Nolan hadn't left his vigil by the aluminum wall, and his sister was nearly asleep on his shoulder, occasionally raising her head and trying to wake up again. Mikaela was already gone, fast on Sam's shoulder, the both of them resting against Bumblebee's thigh. Sam was trying to stay awake, but he kept nodding off for a few seconds at a time. The Autobots, not needing nearly as much recharge as humans did, were as wide awake as ever.

So when Optimus comm. beeped with the quiet unobtrusiveness of a cannonball, everyone leapt halfway out of their respective skins and frames.

"Primus! Didn't'ja have that on silent or somethin'?!" Jazz exclaimed once he was back on solid ground.

Ignoring him, Optimus tapped the side of his head to answer the message. _"Yes?"_

"_Yo. This is Prime, right?"_

It took all of Optimus' iron will not to frown in exasperation. There were only a handful of humans who knew how to access his comm. line, for reasons of emergencies. Unfortunately, protocol demanded that one of those persons had to be the Head of RDA Field Operations, Reginald Simmons. Joy.

"_This line does not connect to anyone else, and should only be used for emergencies if other means are not available."_

"_Hey, I tried calling the regular way, but no one was answering the phone."_

Okay, Simmons had a valid point there. With everyone in the med bay, there wasn't anyone monitoring Telatraan-2 for incoming messages. Prime probably should have put someone there, but no one wanted to leave until they knew if their Femme Commander, and first new arrival, was going to be alright. And frankly, Optimus really couldn't care less about missed messages right now.

"_What do you want Simmons?"_

"_Alright, I know things are kinda tense right now, so I'll be brief: the O'Connell kids, they're still with you, right?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Are they awake?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Are they coherent?"_

"…_Yes."_

"_Oh goody, they're in perfect condition to meet their dad! We'll be there in maybe fifteen minutes."_

Optimus frowned slightly.

"_Why are you contacting me directly? Your agents are still outside, they could have passed the message along just fine."_

"_Yeah, but then they'd have to come inside, and those two in particular used to be with Sector Seven. They still don't believe me when I tell them that none of you guys are going to sit on them because of the whole thing with Bumblebee. Hell, _**I**_ don't believe myself when I'm telling them."_

Good point. But in any case…

"_This might not be the most appropriate time for such things."_

"_Maybe, maybe not, but we're talking about the father of two kids who, as far as he knows, just spent the last few days as hostages of a hostile giant alien robot. We couldn't exactly stuff him in a closet and ignore him (much as I'd like to)."_

Optimus had the feeling he wasn't meant to hear that last part.

"_Anyway, the higher ups are pretty insistent on this."_ Simmons went on. _"And it's not like we can convince him NOW that the Autobots don't exist. This is mostly a courtesy call Prime, and like it or not, we're coming. You don't want to meet him yourself, that's cool, but at least have the kids waiting outside."_

"_Will you be taking them when you leave?"_

"_Depends on what Richard does, but my guess is: probably. I can't exactly stop him if he wants to take his kids home on the next flight out."_

Simmons was right; if their father wanted to take Nolan and Aine away before Elita woke up from surgery there wasn't anything any of them could do to stop him. Perhaps if Optimus met him himself, he could convince him to at least wait until morning. He didn't want them to leave before Elita had a chance to see them again. They deserved a chance to say good bye properly, if nothing else.

But, that they had to say good bye at all didn't feel at all right either.

Optimus switched off the comm. and looked at the children in question, both wide awake and looking at him curiously, as was everyone else.

"I just received a message from Simmons," he said. Everyone else groaned.

"Who's he?" Aine asked.

"Well, nowadays he's the Head of RDA Field Operations." Sam explained. "He's also a total jackass."

"That bad?" Nolan grimaced.

"Dude, his jackass-ery is off the scale."

"What'd he want Prime?" Jazz asked. Optimus kept his attention on the siblings.

"Your father has been in RDA custody. Simmons is bringing him here now."

Optimus wasn't the human expert the way Jazz was, but he knew enough to recognize most expressions. He had expected surprise, happiness, maybe relief their father was alright, or nervousness at having to explain the rather…interesting new developments.

What he had NOT expected was for Nolan to grow pale in visible horror, or Aine to stiffen and move closer to Nolan as if in comfort. Optimus wasn't the only one to notice the odd reaction.

"Somethin' wrong kids?" Jazz asked.

The boy just shook his head, as if having temporarily lost his ability to speak…again.

"Um, the thing is, we don't want to go home b-before Elita wakes up, and um, we're afraid Dad m-might not want to wait," Aine explained haltingly.

Even without the elevated heartbeat, the dilated pupils, the stuttering words, even if none of the Autobots had their scanners activated, every single person in that room would have been able to see through the blatant lie. The children had faced down a vengeance crazed Decepticon, kidnapping, torture, got caught in the crossfire at least once, but one mention of their father, and they were _scared._

The only question was, 'why?'

* * *

Simmons snapped the cell phone shut and dropped in into the cup holder for easy access. If Grit were here, she'd probably glare at him a little for talking on the cell phone while driving again. Good thing she was still on 'leave'. Though, she was taking a long while to call in…

"What was that about?" a deep voice asked from behind him.

And he speaks!

"Just letting everyone know we're on our way," Simmons told Richard, keeping his eyes on the pseudo path that only existed in the specially designed GPS built into the big black SUV. This one in particular had the added feature of no windows. Perfect for transporting a civilian to a top secret facility populated with classified NBE's that definitely didn't exist, nope, not at all.

"There's a military base out here. You're kids are there right now." Simmons told him instead.

"Top secret type thing, right? Like Area 51?"

Simmons grinned. "Something like that."

Richard leaned back and crossed his arms with a scowl. His mood had been swiftly heading south for the better part of the day, and with good reason. He'd been a prisoner for three, going on four, days now, no one was telling him anything, and don't get him started on all the work he missed!

"If I lose my job because you people couldn't have bothered to move a little bit faster, I'm going to sue!"

"You've already gotten a nice Incentive to keep your trap shut," Simmons said tersely. "Don't push your luck."

"Threatening me again? That gets old, you know. You guys had better pay for our flight tickets and reparations to my house."

"I'd love to see you try and make us from a federal prison cell," Simmons answered back with mock cheerfulness.

Richard scowled some more, but didn't press the matter. Instead, he decided to try again at a well worn track that never got very far. "What's going on with the robot? If my kids are at a military base, what happened to the robot?"

Well, the details would probably become known to Richard within the next half hour, but Simmons really didn't feel like indulging him even in this much.

"Classified." He said briskly. Almost as an afterthought, he added "But, the threat has been neutralized."

No, he did NOT lie to Richard. The threat that _was_ Onslaught was neutralized. He just…omitted certain clarifying details.

A wide, not entirely pleasant, self-satisfied grin broke across the man's face, and he relaxed in his chair with the air of someone who had just pulled off a great feat. Like he thought he, personally, had been responsible for 'neutralizing the threat'.

_Okay, I know I can be a little arrogant sometimes, but at least it's for stuff I actually did!_ Simmons thought in exasperation. Oh well, let Richard believe he had something to do with Elita's death, or whatever was going through his head. It'll be funny to see him make a fool of himself when he took that assumption and ran with it. Maybe he'd piss off one of the Autobots enough that they might use him for a game of hacky sack.

_Wonder what the kids would think of that_, he thought.

And that got him started down another well worn train of thought. What he said to Grit before was true: just because someone was a jackass didn't automatically make them an abuser, or even a bad parent. They had no evidence to support anything of the sort, or even to believe the Mom died in something other than an accident. All anyone had to go on was gut feelings, and that was hardly compelling evidence in a courtroom.

And yet, you didn't spend the better part of twenty years in this business without developing good instincts. Simmons sometimes likened it to what Firefighters had that helped them avoid dangerous situation; that honed, gut instinct that screams at you that, for reasons you can't see or place a finger wrong, something is just plain _wrong_.

The former Sector Seven agent didn't get that sense with a lot of people, but when he did they tended to be right on the money. He'd been getting those signals from Richard almost from the moment he met the man, and it had only gotten worse the more time he spent with him. But, just having a bad feeling wasn't going to be enough this time, and while his position gave him wide powers and almost limitless options, the personal lives of civilians were far, far out of his hands.

Simmons glanced down at the phone, half expecting it to ring any moment now that Grit was running out of time.

The phone remained silent.

* * *

For nearly twenty minutes, Nolan and Aine had been waiting outside the hanger, sitting on a pair of old oil drums, Tommy and Casey still chilling in their SUV about fifty feet away. They had offered to let the kids wait in their vehicle, with its more comfortable seats, but the siblings had declined. Privacy was going to be limited, but with the upcoming reunion from the likely highly peeved Richard, they wanted as much as they could get. In that sense, Nolan was grateful for the dim lighting. There were no electric lights out here, since the Autobots and their built in night vision didn't need them, and humans weren't a constant enough presence to make lights a priority. The only source of light came from the stars and the nearly full moon, which lit up the sands as bright as day, but softer.

"I'm sure it won't be that bad," Aine said suddenly. "After what happened, he'll be too happy that we're alright to be mad right now. He might not get mad at all. I bet this whole thing has given him a lot of perspective. You can't go through this and not come out a little bit different on the other side."

Nolan made a noncommittal noise. He didn't want to crush her hopes, but frankly he was a great deal less optimistic about this. At least there were witnesses, Richard wouldn't be able to blow up TOO much. Maybe he could use that to his advantage, leverage it to make Richard let them stay at least for the rest of the night. Ratchet had been working for nearly six hours straight, so it couldn't take too much longer, right?

Right?

The kids straightened as bright white headlights appeared, and they watched as they came closer and closer, to materialize as another SUV identical to the one that brought them here, only minus windows.

Nolan didn't bother taking up the crutches still leaning against the wall. He stood as steadily as he could with his cast, Aine at his side, mentally prepping himself for anything Richard was about to through at him when he stepped out of that SUV. Anger, condescension, verbal undercutting, whatever Richard was about to throw at him, Nolan was ready to take it and throw it right back if he had too, if that was what it took to keep Richard from bullying himself, or Aine, into leaving before they were well ready too!

However, Nolan was NOT ready for him to break down in tears and grab them both in a bear hug.

"Aine! Nolan! Thank god you're alright!" He sobbed into their shoulders, taking a moment to kiss both their heads before pulling them back into a hug. "Oh God, I'm so sorry I let that robot take you both like that! I was praying that I'd be able to get you both back again, even if you never forgave me for being a coward!"

Nolan limply let him hug him, his eyes wide in disbelief as he tried to wrap his mind around this freakishly unexpected development.

Richard…was hugging them…Richard…was crying for them…._Richard_….was apologizing…was…what the heck was GOING ON??

**~ SNAP! ~**

Oh darn it; there goes his grip on reality.

Aine wasn't any less shocked, but she was a great deal happier about it. She gave Nolan a look of pure joy, and maybe a hint of 'I-told-you-so' before she returned Richards hug with equal enthusiasm.

Everything she had said, everything she had been trying to tell Nolan, everything she had told Elita, everything she had been trying to reassure herself of, had been RIGHT! Richard DID love them, and he just didn't realize how he was supposed to show it with Mom gone. Almost losing his kids must have been the cathartic shock he needed to change his behavior to what he was like before!

Nolan was still recovering from the shock, so Aine had to speak for them both.

"It's okay Dad, we're fine, we're okay now!" She said, her voice choking up with tears of joy. "I'm sorry we scared you so bad, but it's okay now, see? Man, you won't believe what we've been through!"

"I'd love to hear about it," Richard said with a smile. He tugged gently on them both back towards the waiting SUV. "You can tell me all about it on the way home."

Aine's smile faded. Nolan woke up. Neither of them budged.

"What? Home? We can't go home yet!" Aine blurted out.

Richards smile wavered a little.

"Why not? I thought, after everything you've been through, you'd be happy to be home again, in your own beds, eating real food."

_Food you'd make Aine cook, beds you'd make Aine make_, Nolan thought bitterly. But Richard's words were confusing him again.

"Dad, how much did they tell you?" he asked slowly. Richard gave him a kind, understanding (condescending) smile.

"They told me enough. They told me the robot that took you two is destroyed."

The siblings couldn't stop themselves from recoiling in horror. Simmons told him WHAT?? _Why_?

Richard completely misunderstood their reactions.

"I know you thought that robot was your friend, and that's why you left with it. But I'm willing to forgive you, no hard feelings, if you come home now. These government goons are even paying for our plane tickets. We can be home again by morning. Doesn't that sound wonderful?"

That sounded like the worst plan ever conceived to Nolan.

"We're not leaving." He said flatly.

Richard's pleasant smile never wavered, but his eyes hardened. "Excuse me?"

Nolan wanted to throw his indignation at Richard, rub his face into his own foolish ignorance, tell him exactly where he could get off, and opened his mouth to rip Richard a new one like he usually did when the older man was crossing the line…

…but he didn't.

Because throwing is emotions at people never worked. All it ever did was make everything worse, when what he needed to was stop, think, and then act.

Richard thought Elita was dead, because Simmons told him so. Wait, DID Simmons tell him that, or is this something Richards assuming/guessing? Whatever the case is, Simmons definitely didn't tell him the whole story. Why, Nolan couldn't imagine. But, it'd probably be better if he didn't screw up what the agent was trying to do. Who knows, it might be something important to Elita's well being and the Autobot's continued hidden existence. Which meant he'd have to proceed carefully for the rest of this conversation, and hope that Aine caught on.

"We're not ready to go home yet," Nolan explained calmly. "We…our friend, Eliza…she saved our lives. But she got hurt really bad. They're treating her here because of how…what's the word? How 'classified' this all is. She's been in surgery for a few hours now actually. Aine and I…"

Nolan wrapped an arm around his sister's shoulders.

"We don't want to leave until we have a chance to at least say thank you, and good bye."

Richard nodded sagely in understanding.

"I see. Well, I'll talk to some people, and maybe they'll let you call her later. Or she can call you when she wakes up."

"Dad," Aine said quietly, pleadingly, "please, listen to Nolan. We want to stay here for her. We owe her that much, at least, right?"

Richards smile was fading. He crossed his arms, looking contemplatively from his son to his daughter. Nolan kept his face blank, suspicious of what was going through his father's mind, but Aine was growing a hopeful smile.

After a few seconds, Richard tilted his head to the side. "Aine, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Why?" Nolan demanded defensively.

"It's okay Nolan," Aine soothed, pulling away. She followed obediently as Richard led her a little ways away from her brother. Not so far as to be out of sight, but far enough that no one else (including the agents still milling around and Richards driver, who had yet to exit the vehicle) would be able to over hear them.

Richard took a deep breath, put both hands on Aine's shoulder, and even bent down to look her in the eye at her level. The gestures both warmed her for the almost alien but much wished for gentleness, but also made her feel small, like a little child. She couldn't decide if she liked it or not.

"Aine, I listened to Nolan, I hear what he's saying. But I need you to listen to me now, okay? Try to see this from my point of view: I've just spent the last three, going on four, days in one room with nothing but half a dozen books from the seventies to keep me occupied. No one was telling me anything, no one was talking to me, I didn't know anything about what was happening to you two. And this is after I saw my own children leave me stranded on a roof."

The small brunette averted her gaze as guilt unexpectedly blossomed in her chest. Yes, Richard had overreacted maybe when Nolan told him 'we're leaving', but maybe Elita had been a little…over the top, maybe, with what she did?

"What I did was wrong, I know that," Richard said, dropping his face in shame. "I shouldn't have been so quick to give you kids up like that. But I panicked, I wasn't thinking. Besides, what was I supposed to do? There wasn't anything I could have done to change anything. I was helpless.

"But, what I don't understand, is why you went with it, and left me behind."

Aine felt a stab in her heart.

"My own children abandoned me for a creature that wanted me dead," Richard went on quietly in a broken voice. "That hurt me more than anything, sweetie. It hurt almost as bad as it did when your mother died. That was the first time I was ever glad she wasn't around, so she wouldn't see her children abandon their own flesh and blood to the mercies of the elements. You have always been such a loving, obedient, dutiful daughter, Aine. I'm not a perfect man, but did I really deserve that sort of abandonment?"

Stab and _twist_.

"I…I…" she tried.

Richard raised his head, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I want this nightmare to end, Aine. I want us to go home tonight, leave all this behind us, go back to our lives again. Why can't you do this one thing for me, Button?"

Button. That old pet name that's been following her since she was three years old, something her mother had come up with because "she was just too cute," and her brother adopted. Richard hadn't used that affectionate nickname for years…

It was hard, it was so hard, to see her father like this. He was rarely a kind man, but he had always been a strong one. To see him like this, so…weak, and at her mercy, hanging onto her every word, it was almost enough to make Aine dizzy.

He was right, everything he was saying was right. How could she refuse him like this, when he'd been through so much? She couldn't imagine was sort of emotional and mental anguish he must have been going through. Yes, Aine had been in the greater danger while Richard waited in physical comfort, but at least she had walked into her escapade with both eyes open. Richard hadn't even had that much.

Richard patted her head with a large, calloused hand that nearly covered her whole head, making her feel even smaller and younger. "Come on, Aine. If you say yes, we both know Nolan will come home too. I need you to be on my side again sweetie."

Aine looked left, right, her feet, anywhere but at her father, trying to keep her thoughts together. He gently grabbed her chin with his thumb and forefinger and forced her to look at him in the eye.

"Aine. You know what the right thing to do is."

Aine bit her bottom lip, her eyes welling up. This was hard, so much harder than she thought it was going to be. She loved her father, and he was being so nice, so gentle…how could she bare to hurt him more than she has already?

But on the other hand, how could she live with herself if she left Elita now?

"Dad…"

She stopped, sniffed, swallowed, breathed, and started again.

"Dad, I know the last few days must have been hard for you. I can't imagine what it must have been like. But El-iza means a lot to us too now. We can't – no, we won't abandon her now. We've come so far together, and I'm…I'm sorry Dad, but we're not finished yet. We won't BE finished until Eliza is alright. She, she's done so much for us, and all she wanted was to be with her loved ones again. Nolan and I promised that we would help her, and I won't leave her until she wakes up to see that she's made it home. Even when it got hard and scary, I never wanted to back down on my promise.

"I'm sorry Dad, but that's how it is."

Richard stared at her in naked shock, almost identical to the one Nolan had worn when Aine had questioned Nolan's decision to try and save their bags in the middle of Elita and Onslaughts first fight. But the shock morphed into something darker, and Aine felt her stomach flip flop.

"Aine…" he said slowly, his grip on her shoulder and chin tightening slightly in warning. "I don't think you understand your position. You are my daughter, and if I say it is in your best interest to come home now, then you damn well are going to come home now."

Aine tried not to gulp, her heart thudding in her ribcage. "But Eliza-"

"Oh for god's sakes, would you DROP that already?" Richard snapped, grabbing her entire chin in his hand in a hard grip.

Aine cried out softly, Nolan almost jumped to his feet but remembered at the last minute that his leg was still broken, and Richard froze, dropping his hands and backing off as if the girl was made of acid. All three O'Connell's glanced at the SUV that had dropped Richard off, the driver being the only other human within hearing distance. The aforementioned driver, a tall man with short curly hair and dark complexion (Italian?), had stepped out of the van and was milling around, to all appearances just stretching his legs and paying absolutely no attention to the family drama.

Richard ran a hand through his hair. "I'm so sorry sweetie, it's the stress getting to me. I didn't mean to yell like that."

Aine didn't say anything, her stomach still flopping, feeling rattled.

Richard reached over, and Aine couldn't help but cringe back. But her father only put his hands on her forearms, rubbing up and down in what was meant to be a soothing gesture. "Please listen to be sweetie. I need you to come home now. I need you to help me with Nolan. I can't control him by myself, I can't get him to let me help him.

"Nolan has always been his own person. You're mom knew how to talk to him, but I never had her touch. I feel like he's been shutting me out ever since she died. Not just me, everyone. You're the only one he's ever let in, and you're the only one who can help me, help him. We have to be a team again, Aine. Just you and me, like it's always been."

Aine stared at her father in black disbelief.

"No it hasn't."

Richard seemed surprised by her flat response. "aine, didn't you ever notice how it was always you and me keeping Nolan in line? It was practically Good Cop Bad Cop: I gave him discipline and tough love, you gave him nurturing. It's been us and him, always."

"Dad, you don't know what you're talking about." She said bluntly. "Yes, Nolan has always tried to act like an adult, and he tends charge ahead without thinking it through first, but it's never been 'us and him'. It's never even been 'you and me.'"

_What am I saying?_

"Nolan's made mistakes, he's done stupid, hurtful things, but he's never done it with malice. Everything he's done, he's done it to protect me. Which is more than what I can say for you."

_Where are these words coming from?_

Richard rocked back as if struck, but Aine wasn't done yet.

"Don't misunderstand me Dad. I'm not against you, and I'm not against Nolan. I mean, me saying it's not 'you and me against him' is not the same as 'him and me against you.' It's not just 'us'…"

She indicated herself and Nolan.

"…and it's not just 'us.'"

Herself and Richard.

"Neither of you have any right to decide whether I'm for or against _anyone_, let alone who's side I'm on. I'm not that petty, and I'm not a chess piece!"

_Since when…since when have these words been my truth?_

"I love you Dad. And I love Nolan. No matter how hurtful or stupid the BOTH of you can be sometimes, I still love the BOTH of you more than anything. And I hate you guys acting like it's a sin for me to love both my imperfect father AND my imperfect brother.

"But that's not what's important now, is it?" She asked rhetorically with a half grin and raised brow. "What I'm trying to say is that I'm not going to be the prize in this tug of war anymore. I want to stay, Dad, and I'm not going to let you use me to leverage Nolan into leaving too."

Richard sputtered. "What? But you…he…where are your…_what_??"

Aine didn't blame him for his speechless shock. After all, since when did the baby have the backbone to speak up for herself?

_Since the baby had to pull up her bootstraps to be the one protecting the Protector, for a change._

"I've been through too much, Dad, to just turn back into a wibbly little girl who needed a big strong guardian all the time." She finished quietly, with the soft firmness of the ocean tide.

A little ways away, the once bemused Nolan was sporting the biggest smile of his entire life. Some of the things she said hurt for their blunt truthfulness, but seeing her speak up for herself, stand up to Richard for the first time, was worth almost everything that happened the last few days.

Almost.

Richard, on the other hand, looked remarkably like something in his brain broke.

Aine started to turn away. "You're welcome to wait with us Dad," she said courteously. "That is, If the RDA is willing to let you. Otherwise, I'll see you in the morning."

That would prove to be the straw that broke the camel's back.

"What is WRONG with you?!" Richard demanded, and he grabbed Aine's upper arm in a vice-grip, stopping her.

Aine gasped in surprise, and Nolan was hobbling over as fast as he could.

"Stop it Dad!" he demanded. "You heard her. She's not leaving!"

"You know what, forget this," Richard near growled. "I don't know what kind of head trip you two have been on, but a 14 year old girl can't be expected to make her own choices. I'm trying to be patient, but you're both pushing it!"

"Dad, seriously, what're you going to do to make us do anything?" Nolan dryly asked. "Your usual 'tactics' won't work so well with an audience."

Actually, they're single audience member was talking on the cell phone and still wasn't paying any attention, but that wasn't important.

Richard glowered like a dark beast.

"You think you're big enough to make your own choices? Fine, here's one more: either get your ass in the van and come home now, or don't ever come near my house ever again."

Nolan's grin dropped.

Aine stared at Richard in disbelief. "You're honestly threatening to kick him out??" she asked in an almost shrill voice.

Richard gave her a sideways grin. "He's made his own bed a long time ago. I'm just making him sleep on it. He wants to leave, that's his choice. I'm sick of his disrespect and him challenging me in my own home. But I'm not going to let him poison you against me any longer, and if I have to remove the taint completely, so be it."

Aine's horrified shock morphed into an emotion she rarely ever felt: righteous anger.

"I don't think Nolan's the poisonous influence I need to get away from," she hissed, tugging on her arm to get away from Richards grip. "Let me go dad. You kick him out, you kick me out."

"You ARE against me! I knew you were ganging up on me! Just what did I do to deserve this? I fed you, I sheltered you, I sent you to the best schools, I gave you everything you need, and this is how you repay me? What the hell is WRONG with you kids?!"

"Dad, you're hurting me," Aine said, cringing as Richards grip tightened with his mounting anger.

"Oh just shut up already!" he snapped. He pulled and twisted Aine's arm, forcing her close again.

Aine cried out in pain.

Nolan raised a fist.

Simmons jumped to his feet.

The hanger doors flew wide open behind them.

Richard head snapped around, then up…and up. And his jaw went down…and down

"Take your hands off of her. Now." A deep voice boomed.

"OHMYGOD!" Richard shrieked, dropping Aine's arm and scrambling back. He tripped and fell backwards hard, but kept scrambling backwards for several more feet, wide eyes staring unblinkingly in naked terror at the newest arrival.

Nolan and Aine turned to see the impressive figure of Optimus Prime framed in the hanger doorway, arms spread from opening the doors. He lowered his arms and took a thundering step out, revealing Ironhide, Bumblebee, and a gingerly moving Jazz, right along with the confused looking Sam and Mikaela by the Primes feet. Moving as if it was second nature, the siblings hurried over to their friends, away from Richard gaping in the dirt, and into the shelter of their very tall friends.

"What're you guys doing out here?" Nolan asked Jazz.

"We heard what was goin' on. Pardon th' intrusion, but none of us were 'bout to let that slime ball that calls himself yer father throw you out and hurt Aine."

"You were listening in on us?"

"Yep."

"...Do you guys even HAVE a concept for 'private conversation', or is that just a human thing?"

"Not our faults you guys don't have com links for when you guys really wanna talk private-like."

"What the hell! What the hell what the hell what the FREAKING HELL!!"

Richards wide eyes frantically darted from one Autobot to the next, looking like a frightened animal. "You have got to be shitting me! There are MORE of you things?! What the hell is GOING ON!"

"There are things in action that are far beyond your understanding," Optimus said cryptically. He knelt down in front of Richard. When he had done it for the siblings, it was so they'd be closer to the same level and ease their conversation. Doing it practically on top of Richard, however, gave the impression of imminent crushing. Richard tried scrambling away even further, and curled up protectively, breathing erratically, heart thumping so hard, so fast, it threatened to jump right out of his chest.

"Look! I can see his heart beating in his neck!" Bumblebee observed, pointing, delighted.

Optimus was far less amused.

"Richard O'Connell, from what I have seen from the way you treat your own offspring, I have no qualms in stepping in and settling the matters myself. I will not abide such abuse to the ones who had done so much to help Elita get this far. Either leave, or stand aside and be silent."

Richard gaped, paralyzed. His eyes darted to Simmons, still on the phone, and to Tommy and Casey, who were a little further away and looking more curious than scared. Now, Richard was many things, but stupid wasn't one of them. The distinctive lack of reaction from the government agents, and that he was still alive and in one piece no matter out mad the (holy crap!) giant robot was, set the wheels turning in his head. His head slowly turned back to the (freaking huge) robot crouched on top of him, and even with his heart thudding in his chest and every single self-preservation instinct he had screaming at him to get up and _run_, he forced himself to meet the creatures eyes.

"I don't…I don't know what you are, or what you want, but if I wanted to take my kids back, I don't, I don't think there's anything you'd be able to do to stop me."

Nolan slapped a hand over his eyes in frustration. "Dad, would you shut up before someone steps on you." Pause. "Actually, keep talking, please."

"Nolan!"

"If anyone was going to be stepping on me, you'd've done it already," Richard pointed out in dawning realization. Richard glanced at the agents, and a smile grew on his face. They might have been bigger, but they didn't hold the power they thought they did.

"I don't know what's going on, but you're in cahoots with the government. I bet you can't lay a finger on me. And, legally, I have every right to take my kids back. You can't stop me, not without screwing yourselves over even worse. You can threaten me all you want, but I've got the law and the government on my side."

All of the Autobots expressions darkened. Nolan felt his stomach sinking, and Aine partially covered her mouth in horror. Richard was right; there wasn't anything anyone could do. There was never anything anyone could not, not now, not ever.

Richard got back on his feet, dusted himself off, and turned toward his driver. "Back me up here, Simmons. Get these giant science experiments to give my kids back. I'm done here."

Simmons held up a finger as the person on the phone finished talking. He finally lowered his cell phone, covering it with his hand, and looked at the siblings.

"How about you two go inside for a few minutes while we straighten this all out?"

Nolan gave him a flat look. "No."

"At least send your sister away. I don't think she's gonna want to hear all this."

Aine crossed her arms. "I feel like I've spent most of my life in the dark, mostly because I didn't bother to ask the right questions. Besides, this has to do with me, I'm going to find out all about it sooner or later. I can handle it."

Simmons looked at both their resolved faces, and shrugged. He turned up the volume to his cell phone as loud and it would go, set it to speaker, and put it back to his ear.

"Hey, could you do me a favor and repeat the last bit again, word for word, don't change a thing? And raise your voice a little too, make sure you say it loud and clear."

That said, he calmly held up his cell phone and turned it out for everyone to hear.

"Um, sure, alright." a feminine voice said, sounding a little uncertain and confused.

The Autobots started at the familiar voice. Richards calm, confidant front wavered.

"I said, I checked out almost all the hospitals within fifty miles of the O'Connell home. Turns out, almost all of them have at least one record for a patient named Caoimhe O'Connell. Most of them only have her maybe two or three times, with each separated by several years though. Her very first trip was in June 1996, and go clear into December 2002, the year she died. You put all the records together though, and we've got a woman visiting the hospital as much as twice a month, especially in the half year preceding her death."

Nolan sucked in his breath. Aine covered her mouth in horror. Richard looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Simmons expression never changed, he just held the phone steady as Alicia Grit went on, her small voice from the cell phone booming across the still and silent desert.

"At first, she was only coming in once every few months, for falling down the stairs or hitting her head against the car door or whatever. But the visits get more and more frequent, and frankly the excuses keep getting flimsier. If she hadn't spread out her visits between a dozen hospitals, she'd have been eligible for the 'Most Accident Prone Woman Alive' award. She's run the gambit from concussions to fractures and even a broken nose once or twice."

Now Aine sucked in her breath, and Nolan pulled her close.

"It wasn't just physical injuries either. She had also been visiting treatment centers for depression, even had a prescription for anti-depressants. Still, her visits were sporadic at best, and never lasted very long. She was always very quick, in and out, and she couldn't stick to a schedule to save her life. I get the impression that she was always in a hurry. Probably didn't want someone to know she was talking to someone – if lying and making excuses counts as 'talking.'"

"Gee, I wonder who'd be pissed about that," Simmons couldn't help but mutter quietly.

"The weirdest part is, she almost always paid in cash," Grit went on, oblivious of her captive, if increasingly horrified and disgusted, audience. "She never used a credit card, or her medical insurance card. I honestly believe she was trying to avoid leaving any evidence she had been there. Or rather, she didn't want someone looking at her credit card bills and notice she'd been getting around the hospitals. I think she was trying to hide it as best she could. Sir, there is no way she could have been this accident prone on her own, and even if she honestly was, she wouldn't have gone through so much effort to hide it. This is even without talking to her friends, what few of them I could find.

"Turns out, she used to be very friendly and outgoing, but within the last two or three years she was alive, she had been withdrawing from everyone, almost never seen outside the home without her husband, and even then, their outings were few and far between. Everyone who knew them kept painting the same picture of Caoimhe being isolated in her own home, and not of her own will. They also say that whenever they tried to talk about her husband, she'd always get agitated and nervous and tried to change the subject. If he was in the room (and apparently he almost always was), she'd clam up entirely.

"Sir, put the eye witness accounts in context with the hospital records, and I think we have a fairly solid case to cite Richard O'Connell with domestic abuse. If we can get him for that, it's not too big a leap to believe his kids are in danger too. There's no way we can just let them go back to him, not with everything we know now."

Nolan could feel Aine tremble in his arms, and not because of the desert air still warm from the summer day's heat.

"Hello? Anyone there?" Grit asked, after a long pause when no one said anything. Simmons lowered the phone back to his ear.

"That'll be all Grit. See you back at HQ by eight."

Simmons snapped the phone shut with a click and dropped it into his pocket. Nobody said anything.

"That's…that's not…it's not what it sounds like…" Richard tried to stay. "Caoimhe was a bit of a klutz, and she was embarrassed by it. Of course she'd tried to hide it. I would never, I NEVER did anything to deliberately hurt her! I would never hurt my own wife! You can't prove I did anything!"

Silence.

"This is my family we're talking about! Maybe we're a little unorthodox, but I took care of them! What, just because I didn't wear kids gloves all the time and treat them all like they were made of crystal, suddenly I must be a horrible person? Don't act like you're so superior, I'm no different from any other husband or father! I've never done anything wrong! You can't honestly expect me to just leave my kids with these…these things!" he wildly waved a hand at the assembled Autobots.

Simmons expression never changed, blank as ever. Wordlessly, he stepped aside and pulled the van door open.

"I understand perfectly, Mr. O'Connell. Now get in the van, and don't say another word."

Richard gape, shaking his head a little in disbelief. "You can't…you can't seriously tell me…you're supposed to be on MY side!"

"I think you're a bit misinformed about my job, Mr. O'Connell," Simmons said flatly. "My job isn't about being on your side, or their side. My job is about doing what I can to protect the interests and well being of as many people as possible, and to do whatever it takes to manage it. Now, I may not like the Autobots personally, and I still don't trust the big black one not to step on me someday and call it an accident, but you being the human here isn't going to entitle you to an automatic win. If I had to choose between the giant alien robots from space and a man who spent more time complaining about lost time at work that demanding to know what was going on with his own kids, I'm going to go with the robots.

"Now get over here, sit your ass down, and shut your damn mouth."

Everyone who had ever experienced Simmons delightful company before tonight stared at the man, some with jaws shamelessly hanging (Bumblebee's would have been scrapping the dirt, had he possessed such an appendage). Nolan leaned over a little to speak quietly to Sam.

"I thought you said he was a total jackass." He whispered.

"He usually is." Sam said back, looking among the most bewildered.

Richard stared, frozen. After several seconds, all the energy seemed to just drain out of him. Without looking back, he trudged to the van, and obediently sat in the seat. Simmons slide the door shut with a resolute click.

"Well that was fun," he said brightly. "Let's never do it again, shall we?"

"Okay, what was all that?" Nolan asked. He had to ask, keep thinking, otherwise he felt like he was going to throw up. Aine was still trembling, and didn't look up to speaking again just yet.

Simmons shrugged. "One of my agents had a bad feeling about Richard, so she decided to do some checking on her off time. Sorry you had to hear all that, but you said you wanted to and you wouldn't leave."

"Why did you tell him Elita was dead?" Optimus demanded. Simmons spread his hands.

"I never actually said that. The guy wouldn't shut up, so I just told him 'the threat has been neutralized.' With Onslaught being a pile of scrap in the middle of the mountains (and thanks again for the cleanup job, you guys are swell), that was pretty much the truth. Not my fault he thought it was the OTHER rogue giant alien robot."

"Did he know there were even two?" The Prime asked with a frown.

"Hmmm…nope, I think I forgot to mention that."

"So what does this mean for us?" Nolan asked. Simmons almost cheerful expression fell a little.

"I'm not going to lie: I honestly don't know. We're not Social Services. We're limited in what we can do with something like this. Look, be honest with me; did Richard ever hit you guys?"

"Um…he'd uh, occasionally hit me, but he almost never raised a hand against Aine. He mostly yelled at her."

"Damn. That'll make things harder then. You'll be eighteen in, what, a month or two? You'll probably be fine, but after everything is said and done Aine will probably have to go back home to Richard."

"Oh hell no!" Nolan exclaimed, pulling Aine closer protectively. She hugged him back and nodded.

"I don't want to go back to that house anymore," she said quietly, but with resolution. "I'd rather move in with Nolan."

"And why the slag would your system allow her to go back to such a pit-poor home in the first place?!" Ironhide hotly demanded.

"Because the system doesn't like to take kids out of their homes unless they're in imminent physical danger, which Aine is not," Simmons explained bluntly. "And frankly, the system's already flooded with hundreds of kids coming out of far worse situations than an occasional slap in the face with no place to go. Right now, we're looking at a probable choice between Richard's house, or getting lost in the system. And no, the RDA has a lot of strings to pull, but Social Services isn't one of them. She goes into the system, and she'll be out of our hands. I can't even promise we'll be able to keep her somewhere in Nevada."

"Then she can stay with me!" Nolan declared. Aine nodded vigorously. But Simmons was shaking his head again.

"Hate to break it to you kid, but nobody's going to let an eighteen year old kid raise his own sister. There's no way you're going to qualify for custody, you're just plain too young."

Nolan rocked back. Not once, in all his planning, had it ever occurred to him that being a legal adult would not allow him to keep his sister close and safe.

"Well frag it all to the Pit and back again." Ironhide said, speaking for everyone present. "This isn't right."

"Well, perfect endings don't usually happen in real life." Simmons said.

He slapped a hand on the van roof twice as if coming to a decision. "Right then, we'll just save it for the morning. I'm getting Big Daddy out of here. But hey, worse comes to worse, maybe you kids can stick around here as the Autobots pets or something."

Nolan looked at him angrily, visibly offended. "I take it back. You're a total jackass."

Simmons grinned shamelessly before getting into the driver's seat. He started up the engine, and drove off, taking their father, and their uncertain future, with him. Nolan released a sigh and let his head fall back bonelessly.

"Let's see, since this morning I've had two arguments, one kidnapping, a broken leg, a hospital trip, three secret government agents, and getting kicked out of my house. On the upside, I've had a rescue, some enlightening conversations and now everyone knows was a piss-poor parent my Dad is. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the Most Bipolar Day of My Life. I should mark it."

"Wow Nolan. When ya put it like that, you've had a really, really long day."

"Tell me about it Jazz. Stick a fork in me, I'm done. Wake me up in a week. But first, gimme my crutches."

And so the assembled mechs and teens meandered back into the hanger, to go back to what they had spent the last few hours: waiting for Ratchet.

The door slid aside to reveal the chanteuse hummer.

Everyone froze. Ratchet focused on Optimus, front and center of the group.

"Prime. Would you come in here please?" he said, face and voice neutral.

Everyone whipped their heads around to their leader. Optimus paid them no attention, quickly covering the distance in a few steps. A few quiet words were exchange, and Optimus squeezed past the medic and into the infirmary. Ratchet slid the door closed behind him, and once it clicked shut, he leaned forward until his forehead was leaning against the cool metal plating, both hands flat against the wall.

"….Doc?" Jazz ventured. Ratchet didn't say anything, didn't even look at the rest of them.

Nolan felt his world freeze and tunnel.

Hobbling forward as fast as he could on his crutches, Nolan almost ran across the room until he was right next to the wall. Not caring who was watching, not caring that he was being invasive, he shamelessly pressed his ear against the metal because _he had to know_.

Nothing.

No beeping machines.

No clicking of metal touching metal.

No voices, no murmurs, no whispers, nothing.

He heard nothing…

…except the sound of someone softly sobbing.

888888888

End ch. 14


	15. Ch 15 And Beginings

**AN:** Here it is folks, the last chapter of my first story. I almost can't believe that it's been eight months already since I started. I know you guys are eager to know how this is going to wrap up, so without further ado, here it is.

**Disclaimer:** Transformers are not mine, but I'm currently in negotiations for the ownership of my favorites. Original inspiration for the story came from **Ray of Starlight's** "Twin Times the Fun."

* * *

Ch. 15 – …And Beginnings

_~ 8 days later ~_

Nolan leaned his head back on the head rest, watching the scenery go without seeing it, his mind a million miles away as it usually was these days. The gentle rocking of the truck was lulling him into a sleepy daze, which was only exacerbated by the monotony of almost four hours of driving from the suburbs of Tranquility to the boondocks. The late afternoon was already morphing into evening, a slow, lazy process in the summer, and he could feel his own brain turning into molasses. Not that he was doing much to fight it. It was nice, not having to think. It used to be that he always had to keep busy, always had to be doing something, so that he wouldn't think of what had happened, that Elita was –

"Nolan!"

The boy jumped as the truck yelled at him. "What? Yes? What?"

"Welcome back," Ironhide noted dryly. "Only took me three times to bring you down to earth again."

Aine giggled from the passenger seat. Their backpacks and hand-me-down duffel bags were tossed into the back seat, and Nolan himself was behind the wheel, playing the part of an attentive driver and failing in epic proportions. At least he remembered to keep his hand loosely on the bottom of the steering wheel.

"So uh, mind saying it again one more time?" Nolan asked sheepishly.

"I was asking what you thought about…all this?"

Ironhide didn't need to elaborate. Nolan let out a breath and let his head fall back again. "Frankly, I'm not sure. I mean, I trust your judgment and all, but I don't even know these people, not really."

"They're good people Nolan. You'll both be well cared for."

"Yeah, but we're being kind of dumped on their laps, haven't we? I mean, they've only had a few days to get used to the idea. Plus, they already have a baby and all, and…yeah."

"We're not being dumped, they volunteered. Besides, even if it only turns out to be a little while, at least we're not imposing on the Witwicky's anymore." Aine pointed out.

"This is true," Nolan acknowledged with a sagely nod.

Eight days ago, when it became clear that Nolan and Aine didn't have anywhere to go, several options were discussed as to where they were to stay until someone could figure out what the heck to do with them. From what Nolan heard, Sam had only mentioned the mess to his mom almost in passing, and Judy instantly volunteered their home as a halfway house for the siblings. They had been staying in their guest bedroom ever since. Or rather, Aine had been in the guest room, Nolan in Sam's room, and Sam on the living room couch. Thank goodness the other teenage boy was such a good sport. And that the couch folded out into another guest bed.

Now, don't get him wrong, Judy and Ron were sincerely nice people, and Judy did her very best to make them feel at home, even taking them shopping to replace all the clothes they lost when they had had to abandon their bags back when Onslaught had first attacked – but frankly they were the oddest couple Nolan had ever met. Judy wouldn't let him or Aine do anything, insisting they rest and recuperate from their ordeal. For an entire week, Aine had been expressively forbidden from cleaning, laundry, cooking, washing, or anything else even remotely resembling chores, and if she caught them so much as picking up a little she'd swoop in and take over as if she thought the exertion of lifting a pillow would break their spines.

As Aine had put it, "Having so much free time was just too _weird_."

And that wasn't even the half of it. Seriously, what the heck kind of person made a house rule against walking on the freaking grass in his _own back yard_?!

So in that sense, it was good to get out of the Witwicky home. They were nice people, and Nolan was sincerely touched that they were willing to open their home to them on such short notice, but frankly it felt awkward living as the perpetual guests and occupying someone else's living space.

The downside was that they were being shuffled again to another family for an indefinite time. He knew they had lucked out big time, that this couple had decided to take the plunge and open their home to them for the possible long term; if this worked out, the RDA would be able to ensure they could stay and be cared for, and that nobody, not Social Services, and not Richard, would be able to take them away. But if it didn't…he actually had nightmares of this being what the next few years were going to be like for Aine. At least he was almost free of it. What was going to happen to her if this didn't work out?

"Relax Nolan, they're not going to eat you." Ironhide interrupted the boy's dark musings again with a flat tone. "We can all vouch for them. You've already met them, haven't you, when they came to visit the base?"

"Well, yeah. They're nice and all, but aren't they kind of, you know…young?"

"This from the kid who had been hoping for guardianship of his sister at the tender age of eighteen," Aine mentioned with a smile.

"Yeah, well, I was desperate and stupid."

"He admits it!"

Nolan mimed stabbing himself in the heart. "Ack! Et tu, Aine?"

Aine poked him in the side, eliciting a laugh. "Hey, you said it first, you know. But yeah, I liked them a lot. Elita would've loved them, I think."

Oh, that was such the wrong thing to say. The almost lighthearted feeling Nolan was nursing crashed and died, and Aine cringed as she saw the pain flicker across his face as memories, vivid as they day they were created, hijacked the forefront of his thoughts again. But Aine wasn't about to let him spiral down that dark hole again, not if she could help it.

"Nolan," she said gently, but firmly, putting her hand on his. "Please, don't go there again, not now. You've spent the last week beating yourself up over it. No one blames you for anything, not even Optimus. Right Ironhide?"

"Right." The topkick agreed. "What's past is past. Reliving it all the time isn't going to change it."

Nolan glared at the dashboard. "That's your sage advice? 'Forget it and move on?' Pardon me for not being so callous!"

"You'll never forget." Ironhide said, uncharacteristically soft. "But everyone else has already forgiven you. You might as well learn how to forgive yourself as well."

Nolan lowered his head to hide his eyes, unable to respond. The oppressive, depressive atmosphere overshadowed them all, and Aine squirmed under its weight.

In a desperate attempt to chase off the darkness being emitted by Nolan's palpable guilt, she tried to steer the conversation back to its original course. "Ironhide, are you SURE this is okay? I mean, this is so last minute, and I don't want to impose on them or anything."

"From what I understand, they'll be getting an allowance for your basic living expenses, until you're done with high school. Didn't you two get an Incentive or something for after that?"

"Something like that, yeah."

* * *

"_I'm sorry, you're going to make us sign a what now?"_

"_A non-disclosure agreement. It means you agree to never speak of what you have seen and experienced regarding Autobots and Decepticons to another human that has not been expressively approved by us. We're not saying we think you're planning to run to the local papers about this, we just…need to be especially cautious considering the sensitivity of what you've fallen into, and that involve specifying the boundaries. Once you sign it, you will be given, ah, "compensation" for everything you have done."_

"_So you're gonna bribe us into signing the thing." Nolan translated flatly._

"_No no no no, of course not. That would be unethical and illegal. A "bribe" only refers to when you give money to a government official to do something they would otherwise not do. This is more of an…incentive, if you will."_

_Nolan and Aine, along with the agent, were at the Witwicky home, in the living room, sitting across from each other on couches with a coffee table separating them. The agent, by the way was the woman who had, with one phone call, completely turned their lives over all over again: Alicia Grit. Frankly, neither of them knew quite how to act with her, not until the dust settled and they learned whether she had saved them or damned them. Sam was out, but Ron and Judy were off to the side, monitoring the conversation like a pair of protective birds, wanting to be sure the agent didn't try anything with them._

"_So explain to them how this is going to work." Ron said. "Is it going to be the same deal Sam got?"_

"_More or less, Mr. Witwicky. You see Nolan, Aine, the government isn't going to write you a check right of the bat. Instead, we will be creating two separate trust funds for the both of you in your names, which you'll be able to claim when you turn eighteen."_

"_Um, not to sound like a greedy materialistic jerk or anything," Nolan hedged, "but how much are we talking?"_

_Grit looked a little amused. "I can't promise an exact figure right now, but it should be plenty satisfactory. I can give you a ball park figure though."_

_From a pocket inside her jacket, she pulled out a pen and a small notepad._

"_Please keep this confidential, we're not supposed to share these numbers with other recipients," she requested as she wrote something down. "And don't quote me on this either. This is a conservative ballpark figure, you understand."_

_She ripped off the paper, turned it face down, and slid it across the table. Nolan exchanged a raised brow with Aine (come on, this was the government. They paid their own workers in peanuts, how big a number could they possibly offer?), before picking up the paper and scanning it quickly._

_Only to fall back against the couch as all the breath left his body. Aine plucked the paper from his limp fingers and kept staring at it with eyes the size of saucer cups. _

"_Oh my gosh…" she whispered in disbelief. "And this is a _conservative_ figure?!"_

"_Adjusted for your age and future needs," Grit said. "You're both young, with a full life ahead of you. We won't tell you what you should do after high school, so think of this as our way of opening your options."_

_Nolan felt like he couldn't breath. He leaned forward so that his elbows were on his knees and buried his face in his hands._

"_Nolan?" Judy asked worriedly, coming over. "Nolan, is everything okay?"_

"_I'm going to college," he said, almost crying. "I'm actually…going to be able…to go to college."_

* * *

"So the two of you are already set." Ironhide said, snapping Nolan out of his reverie yet again. "What're you so worried about then?"

"I don't know," Nolan breathed out. "I guess I'm mostly worried about what Plan C is going to end up being, if this doesn't pan out as well as everyone keeps thinking it will."

"At least reserve judgment until you meet them. They're more normal that the Witwicky's were."

"Way to set the bar Ironhide."

Up the winding dirt path they drove, and in view came a large white farm house, charmingly old fashioned, with green shutters and a porch swing. A little ways away Nolan could see a red barn, paint fading, looking like it had been built when the property had first been established. Ironhide had mentioned this was an old family home, and Nolan could believe it. They had roots here, going generations back.

Even as far back as they were, they could see the tall metal figure speaking to the homeowners, kneeling down and speaking. A little ways away, the imposing figure of Optimus Prime waited, with his hands folded behind him, letting the others have a chance for one more talk.

Ironhide drove up and parked, letting the kids out. They pulled out their bags from the back seat, but with nothing left to do, they just…stood there, watching the adults.

Nolan felt awkward, not sure what to do. Say hi? Join in? Wait to be called over?

Thank goodness for Aine.

"Hey everyone. Still getting along?" She asked cheerfully.

The Lennox's turned to see them. The wife, Sara, with baby Annabelle on her hip, beckoned them over with a smile and a wave.

"Sure, everything's great. Your guardian was just making sure we were all set for you guys. If I didn't know any better, I'd think she didn't trust us."

"Of course I trust you, Sara. Think of this as an…over abundance of caution."

Sara waved off the apology. "Hey, I'm a mom. No need to apologize, I get caution. I remember when Annabelle was born, I was afraid to leave the room for a week."

With a good natured chuckle, the Autobot unfurled to stand at her full height, shining in the afternoon sun behind her:

Elita One, as whole and vibrant as she had been the first time Nolan had seen her almost two weeks and forever ago.

Even now, Nolan still felt a small part of him soar when he saw her, active, moving, talking, and so gloriously, beautifully alive. It was the same part of him that had died when he had heard Optimus' crying for sheer joy and relief and had mistaken it for grief and despair.

Nolan had honestly collapsed against the wall and nearly fallen apart right then and there, until Ratchet corrected his erroneous assumption. As for Ratchet's ominously quiet nature upon leaving the infirmary? That was just him trying to rest his CPU for a few seconds after so many intense hours of concentration and delicate surgery.

Nolan was still a little mad at him for that. Those few seconds between believing Elita was gone, and being told that she had made it through the surgery and would be making a full recovery, remain some of the worst of Nolan's entire life.

But the few seconds immediately following them being allowed to visit her after she and Optimus had their alone time, and he was able to confirm her survival with his own eyes, seeing her raise up her head and _smile_, would remain some of the best. He would visit her everyday she was recuperating, sometimes spending hours by her side, just to convince himself that she wasn't going anywhere. Ratchet had only cleared her to leave the med bay yesterday; hence why she had been unable to meet with the Lennox's personally before. She had left base hours before, just so she could have a chance to speak quickly with them herself. But Ratchet had done an excellent job putting her back together. There was nothing in her smooth, graceful movements to suggest she had nearly been blown in half and clung to life by a bare thread only a week ago.

However, Elita had not come out of her experience unscathed. As she turned her head and upper body to look at the siblings with clear fondness, it also exposed the remaining damage:

Nearly the entire right side of her face, the side exposed to the blast, was still carrying damage. The fins on that side were crooked, smaller, fractures still mapping out her face from her eye down to the corner of her mouth, and the eye itself was dark. One half of her face was perfect, the other warped, scarred, and blind.

Ratchet had taken with him the necessities for essential, life saving repairs, at the reasonable expense of having nothing to repair cosmetic damage. As for the eye, the components were simply too delicate for him to even think of touching before they were able to get the supplies still on the Ark – which, mind you, was still hiding on the moon. Ratchet had put in a piece of glass to keep debris out, but for now Elita would be walking around with one blind eye.

Every time Nolan saw her scars, another piece of him would twist with guilt at the constant reminder of what she had suffered for him, what she had been willing to suffer for him, and that she was walking around scarred and partially handicapped because of his actions. No matter how many times he heard her say she didn't blame him, that it wasn't his fault, he knew he would be carrying that guilt until she was fully repaired again, and that wouldn't be happening for a long while yet.

"So uh, you guys getting along?" Nolan asked, scratching the back of his head. Elita smiled.

"Yes, we are, very much so. They are good people Nolan. You and Aine will be in good hands."

"Right then!" Will Lennox said, clapping his hands together. "So, how about I show you your rooms? It's not much, but you guys can personalize it later. I mean, if you want to stay anyway."

Nolan and Aine exchanged a look. Nolan glanced up at Elita, who had taken a step back and away, letting them make their own choice. Nolan and ran a hand through his hair.

"Well, we're already here. We might as well try and see how it goes," he muttered quietly, just loud enough for Aine to hear. She grinned.

"That's the spirit."

Feeling remarkably like he was finishing a long, tiring journey, Nolan hefted his backpack a little higher on his shoulder, and with his sister by his side, approached the waiting couple who had invited them into their home, and their lives.

* * *

Elita stood by, watching the young O'Connell's interact with the Lennox's, Sarah handing Annabelle to Aine to hold, to the girl's obvious delight. Will took their bags, and the husband and wife led the siblings into the house, letting the screen door shut behind them.

Elita cycled a breath of air, feeling both relieved and a little sad that they didn't need her so much anymore. Well, at least with the Lennox's she'd be able to visit them, and there were few others she would trust their safety to more than the Weapon Specialist, even if he pretended to grumble about being the 'human babysitter'.

"I think this just might work out," Optimus said, wrapping an arm around her waist. She leaned against him.

"I sincerely hope so, Optimus. Those two deserve a sanctuary for a home."

Optimus let go and stepped back, so he'd have enough room to transform into a flame-painted Peterbilt truck. Taking a cue, Elita transformed into her Maybach alt mode, and followed him down the road, back toward the base.

Or at least, that was where she had initially assumed they were going, until she realized that Optimus was taking a decidedly different route. Curious, she sent a ping to his comm. link (and sweet Primus did it feel good to have all her systems working again, including all her communications!).

"_Optimus, where are we going?"_ she asked. _"This is not the way to the base."_

"_No, it's not",_ Optimus confirmed cryptically, but with a youthful air of being very pleased with himself. "_Bear with me for a little while Elita. There's something I want to show you."_

Had Elita been in root mode, she would have been grinning. She couldn't conceive what Optimus wanted to show her, but she was already looking forward to it. They hadn't had much alone time in the past week, and she had only been released from the med bay yesterday. She was happy to take whatever she could get, even if it was just a stolen hour or two on the way home.

So she followed him down roads, up another path, uphill where the wide paved road became narrower and narrower, until it ended completely high up a tree covered hill and around the bend, out of sight of the bigger road. Optimus transformed, and Elita followed suit. The area was surrounded by tall trees, most almost as tall as Optimus himself, and certainly taller than Elita. Optimus took her hand.

"It's not much further. Be careful, the undergrowth can be tricky in places."

Optimus guided her along, helping her avoid the dense foliage that kept trying to trip her up. She only lost her footing once, but Optimus had been quick to catch her. She "lost" her footing once or twice again afterwards, until they broke through the tree line and Optimus came to a stop.

Elita gasped, fingers covering her mouth.

The sun had nearly set, and Optimus had led her to a bluff overlooking the nearby city, all lit up and glittering like thousands of starry gems, illuminating skyscrapers and towers. The sun was setting, letting the stars shine, and between the sky and the lights, it felt like there were stars both above and below her, made more wonderful by the atmosphere that made them twinkle merrily in a way they never could in the cold emptiness of space. It was just so beautiful.

"Oh my…" she breathed.

"I thought you might like it," Optimus said with a smile, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her middle. She leaned back against him and laid her arms over his, enjoying the view.

"You have excellent taste." She complimented.

But even with the romantic moment, Elita could feel something off. It wasn't any one thing, but after so long, Elita could pick up that something was a little…off with the Prime. He seemed tense, in an anticipatory sort of way, the way he usually got when there was something he needed to say but was having a hard time getting to it.

"Optimus?" she queried, twisting her head around to look at him.

"There's another reason I asked you out here," Optimus started. He took her by the shoulders and turned her around to face him, and she put her small hands on his chest, keeping close contact. As close as she was, she had to crane her head back to look up at Optimus.

"Yes?" she asked, feeling her fuel pump start to speed up. Optimus paused for a second, cycled a breath of air, and slowly began.

"Elita…this war we've been fighting has taken so much from us both. We have both given so much, so that we can protect our soldiers, our friends, and our way of life. I did it all gladly, and I was never afraid to die for it. But nothing, nothing, scared me more than seeing you almost die right in front of me.

"When Primus gave you back, I knew, with all my spark, that I would never be able to let you go again. I don't want to lose any more time with you. I want us to live our lives to the fullest. I want us to share in our happy times, and comfort each other in our sad times. I don't want another moment to go by wasted because we were too scared."

"Become my bondmate, Elita, and share those moments with me."

Elita dropped her gaze and stepped back a little. "Optimus, I…you know as well as I the war is not over, the danger has not passed. Had we been bonded already, and Onslaught killed me, I might have taken you with me. The risk…I am sorry, but the risk is still too great."

"Had we been bonded, I would have known it was you who had landed, and this whole mess could have been avoided." Optimus pointed out. Elita's lips quirked.

"Perhaps. But I must say, for all that has happened, I could never regret meeting Nolan and Aine."

"No, I suppose not," Optimus agreed with a smile. But he sobered. "I'm well aware of the dangers. But I need you to help me remember why I keep going, Elita. I don't care about the risk."

"But you HAVE to care about the risk!" Elita exclaimed. "You are the Prime! You are not a mere military Commander; you represent all the hopes of the Autobots! If I…if we lost you, it would be devastating. If you will not consider your ultimate well being, then I will!"

Optimus tilted his head with a smile. "In that case, you can protect me, I can protect you, and between the two of us, we'll be able to keep each other safe."

Elita shook her head in mild frustration. "Optimus Prime, you are not listening to me. I am trying to saaAAH-AAAHH!"

Elita arched her back as Optimus (slag him!) trailed a finger up her spinal strut, sending delightful shivers all through her body.

"Stop that!"

"Stop what?" Optimus asked innocently with a mischievous grin, just as his finger (ooh!) started back downwards.

"That! I am trying to have a serious conversation here!"

"What a coincidence, so am I."

Optimus placed his trailing hand flat on the small of her back, then leaned down until his forehead was touching hers. "I love you Elita. I want to love you with everything I have. You're afraid of taking me to the Matrix? I'm afraid of going on without you at my side."

He leaned back up slightly and cupped the scarred side of her face.

"And there is no one else I trust more to keep my spark safe than you."

Elita's optics widened and her lips parted slightly. This was not the first time Optimus had asked her to bond with him, but he had never struck such a chord as he did now. Why? What made now so different? Was it because he had finally found the right words? Was it because she had come so close to dying, and she too didn't want to lose any more time either? Or was it simply because, for once in her life, she wanted to throw caution and common sense out the proverbial window and say finally 'yes?' That she just wanted to be selfish and think about what _she_ wanted for one, pure and simple?

Then again, they had already given so much. Surely, Primus would forgive them for this one act of selfishness.

Elita reached up a hand behind Optimus' head, pulling him down to herself, while her other hand teased the armor directly over his spark in just the right way she knew would make him squirm and gasp in delight. Within minutes, the bright glow of two sparks shone, would touch, and became one.

* * *

Unfortunately, on the way back to base, both Commander's navigation and communication systems suffered simultaneous and spontaneous malfunctions far too technical for them to repair on the spot. Consequently, they had no choice but to spend the next four days wandering lost until their systems unexpectedly rebooted and resolved their malfunctions on their own and they were able to find their way home again.

When they drove up to the base in the desert, they had sand in their joints, a taste for Spanish music, fiesta beads hanging from their review mirrors, and for Elita, a bumper sticker that cheerful proclaimed "Carino Mexicó!"

Sam was horribly disappointed.

* * *

**Epilogue**

_September 23, 10:46 pm, Nevada ~_

"Okay, seriously, we had the ENTIRE summer for these guys to show up, and they wait until AFTER school starts, on a school night, to finally show up?"

"I thought your parents extended your curfew for landings, Sam?"

"Yeah, till midnight, so I've only got another hour before Dad puts me on mulch duty again. Do you have any idea how much that sucks Aine? _Do you_?"

"Hey Nolan, you think it sucks worse than cleaning a horse's stall on a hot summer day?"

"No freaking way."

"…Is that what Wills gonna make you do if you break your curfew?"

"That's what he's been threatening."

"What will Aine have to do then?"

"Same thing. Will call's it 'gender equality.' I call it 'Will-not-wanting-to-clean-up-his-own-horses-crap-if-he-can-help-it.'"

"How're you going to clean the stall with a busted leg?"

"You know Mikaela, I'm not entirely sure. I think that's supposed to be part of the punishment."

"Oh! I see them! – wait, wait, no, never mind, that's another plane."

It was a beautiful night, out in the desert about a hundred miles away from the base. The humans – Sam, Mikaela, Nolan, and Aine – were gathered around a campfire and enjoying the marshmallows, hotdogs, and soda that Sam had thought to bring, to everyone else's delight. There had been a little debate whether Nolan could come because of his leg, but he was adamant about not being left out and, well, it wasn't like he was going to be called on to run a foot race or anything. If anything, the cast was becoming a little bit of a running joke, what with it being liberally covered in signatures and messages in both English and Cybertronian. For some reason, they couldn't get enough of seeing the massive forms of Ironhide or Optimus scrunch down, delicately holding markers in their fingers, and write something in a script that should have been far too small for such huge beings to handle. Not to mention the ongoing "Guess what Jazz Wrote" game that was driving Nolan and Sam nuts but amused the Solstice to no end.

With everyone chatting, exchanging stories, and Sam catching his marshmallow on fire and waving it around like a flaming baton, it was easy to believe it was a normal camping trip among good friends.

"Sam, if you don't put that down before you set yourself on fire, I won't be held responsible for what I do next."

Well, the presence of six giant metal robots did mess up the illusion a little, admittedly. But they were good friends too, so it was okay.

"I wasn't going to hurt anyone," Sam defended, but blowing out the charred sugary treat all the same. When Ratchet told you to do something, you did it, no questions asked, not unless you wanted to go home with a bump the size of a grapefruit on your head.

And why was the odd ensemble out in the desert in the first place?

Because only two weeks ago, the Autobots had received a transmission: Elita's team had arrived, and even better, had bumped into another small team on the way.

_~ Two weeks prior ~_

"_Are you serious?" Nolan exclaimed in delight. Jazz grinned._

"_Better believe it. Elita's femmes bumped into another team, and they're all on their way here. They won't all be makin' planet fall though. Some of them need repairs, so most of them'll be staying on the moon with the Ark while two go ahead and land. Once we get the logistics figured out, they'll be landing the ship wherever an' whenever we need 'em to."_

"_So how many are there?" Sam asked. Jazz stopped to think._

"_In total, eight. Four on each team."_

_Nolan frowned in confusion. "Wait, for on each team?"_

"_Yep."_

"_And one of them is Elita's?"_

"_A-yep."_

"…………………_Elita's entire Division only has four femmes?"_

_Jazz threw his head back and roared with laughter at the look of crushing disappointment on Nolan's face. "O' course not! Her Division's much bigger than THAT! This was just her personal team, her elite, if ya will. Kinda like how we were Optimus' personal team. Just because we were the only one's here, don't mean the rest of the army didn't exist, now did it?"_

_Nolan visibly relaxed. "Oh. I get it now."_

"_Any idea when they're going to be here?" Mikaela asked._

"_Well, barring unexpected circumstances, we'll be expectin' them in ten ta fourteen days."_

_Nolan's brow raised. "Talk about timing."_

_Sam looked at him curiously. "Timing? Why?"_

"_Well, if they get here later rather than sooner, they'll arrive in time for my birthday."_

~ Present ~

It actually ended up being the day before, but Nolan was still counting it as a present.

"So you kids never gone campin' before?" Jazz asked, the silver bot lying on the ground with his hands under his head. Aine shook her head.

"Not like this, way out in the middle of nowhere. I kind of remember sleeping in a tent in the backyard though."

"Yeah, that was something Mom did sometimes," Nolan confirmed, examining his marshmallow. "We never got to go on real camping trips, so Mom set up one in the back yard, even with a little fire pit so we could cook hotdogs, and she always brought a little fire extinguisher, just in case. It was a lot of fun."

"What was your moms name again?" Mikaela asked.

"Caoimhe."

"K-E-E-V-A or K-I-V-A?"

"Neither. It's C-A-O-I-M-H-E."

Every single pair of eyes not Aine's stared at Nolan in disbelief.

"You're making that up," Ratchet flatly accused. "From what I understand of phonetics and the English language, that name has too many letters and most of them with no purpose whatsoever."

Nolan raised his right hand. "I swear on my honor it's true. You pronounce it 'keeva' and spell it like…um, 'cay-o-im-hee,' I guess."

"That makes no sense whatsoever."

"It's sort of a tradition in Mom's family to give their daughters traditional, unique Irish names," Aine explained between liking her fingers for fluffy sugary treats. "How'd do you think I ended up with a name like 'Aine' instead of 'Ellie' or 'Annie'?"

That was another change in the siblings, a more subtle one than their choice of camping buddies. Before, it had almost been taboo for them to talk about their Mother, let alone speak so casually about her. It didn't happen often, but Aine had honestly delighted in learning about her mother, and the more she wanted to head, the more Nolan got used to talking about her without stumbling over his words. The picture he had kept so close now sat in a lovely frame on his bookcase, next to the much beloved paperback that had kept it safe all these years. The letter itself rested in the bottom of a drawer, safe, but not darkening the happier memories with its dark ending.

There was also one more change, one only Nolan appreciated: two days after Richard gave them up, Aine came downstairs without the pigtails she had worn every day since she was nine. Nolan had to do a double take when he saw her, and when he asked, she just smiled and said "I just felt like it was time for a change."

It was strange, how a simple change like wearing her hair down made her look…older. Even now, as she tucked a bit of stray hair behind and ear, she looked less like a little girl and more like a blossoming young woman. Nolan had no doubt it would be a long, long, long time before he saw those pigtails again.

"How are you two with Will and Sara, by the way?" Elita asked. Nolan shrugged.

"It was kind of weird the first few days, but it's not bad. I think Aine is about ready to steal their baby though."

"I am not!"

"You're always volunteering for diaper duty, even when it's number two! That's Not Normal!"

Bumblebee jumped up and pointed wildly at the sky. "There's one of them now!"

Everyone jumped up to see a bright streak of light cutting across the sky, over their heads, and to hit the earth several miles away with a thunderous crash that sent vibrations that bare-footed Mikaela could feel in the ground.

"Whoo hoo! Perfect landing!" Aine cheered, throwing her hands up in victory.

"Um, actually, they kind of missed the landing site by, a lot." Sam pointed out, gesturing towards the drawn out target a little ways away.

"Yeah well, compared to Rochester, those two practically hit the bull's eye."

"Good point."

Everyone transformed, Sam with Bumblebee, Mikaela with Jazz, and the siblings with Elita, all heading for the closest crater. When they arrived, they transformed again about thirty feet away. The minute Ironhide has his feet again, he hurried ahead while everyone else held back. Sam gave Bumblebee an odd look.

"Um, what're we waiting for?"

Bumblebee grinned at him with his eyes.

"This one here? It's Elita's SiC and Ironhides bondmate, Chromia."

"Chromia!" Aine squealed, already going starry eyed, clasping her hands under her chin in girlish delight. "Oh my gosh, this is going to be so romantic!"

Ironhide approached the edge of the crater, and peered down, partly anticipatory, partly nervous.

"Chromia?"

A click, a whine, and a shot of white energy that nearly took of Ironhide's head was his answer.

The Topkick scrambled back, just in time to avoid another shot, which was followed by a slender silver frame still shooting at him like a person possessed. Ironhide wasn't just taking it though, and had whipped out his own cannons and was circling around and shooting her right back.

"What the frag is wrong with you, femme?!" He demanded.

"You're what's wrong, you slag-eating frakking pit-spawn!" Chromia yelled back. "Get back here and let me shoot you!"

"Are you insane, you lunatic?!" he shot back, along with a couple of plasma blasts for good measure. "What the frag did I do??"

"You almost died at least TWICE, you pathetic excuse of a mech! Did you think I wouldn't _notice_? And stop running, you coward! I've seen glitch mice with bigger cast irons than you!"

While the happily bonded pair continued to circle around and shoot each other in seemingly honest attempts to cause bodily harm, everyone else stood by and patiently waited and/or gawked.

"That's Chromia?" Sam squeaked.

"Yep, that's Chromia." Bumblebee answered mildly.

"……….Wow." Aine said, hands still frozen in their clasp under their chin, considerably less starry eyed than she'd been seconds ago. "They're very, um…wow."

"Yep."

"They're certainly quite, um…." Mikaela tried. "…they're quite, um…" And failed.

"Do not think about it too hard," Elita advised, looking like she was trying not to laugh. "You might hurt yourselves."

"I'm more worried about them hurting each other!" Nolan said, watching the bondmates(?!) chasing each other around and shooting insults and energy blasts at each other like they were trying to kill each other.

"What, this?" Elita waved a hand at the pair. "This is only them getting reacquainted after being apart for so long. Once you witness an argument, you will understand the difference."

"Oh dear god."

Ironhide and Chromia had been circling each other, firing off shot after shot, yet somehow managing to avoid any misfires toward the bemused/amused audience. After several minutes and several rounds of fire exchange and increasingly colorful insults being lobbied, Chromia came in close and threw herself at him with a hard uppercut that sent Ironhide stumbling back. Off balanced, Chromia took the advantage and tackeled him, sending them both tumbling down the ravine of a dried out river bed, rolling out of sight. Even then, everyone could still hear metal hitting metal as Chromia and Ironhide continued getting "reacquainted," so everyone waited patiently for them to finish.

Then the clashing became disturbingly rhythmic.

Sam's eyes bugged out of his head. "Um, are they…?"

His question was (mercifully) cut off by a second 'meteorite' crash landing a mere hundred yards away with a thundering shock.

"Perhaps it would behoove us to greet our other new arrival and give those two a chance to compose themselves," Elita suggested calmly, bending down and shepherding the horrified and slightly traumatized teenagers along.

Nolan wasn't one for praying, but as they left they left Chromia and Ironhide to finish their, uh, "business" (don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it ARGH! I'm thinking about it!), Nolan was inspired to compose a quick one of gratitude.

'_Dear God, thank you for letting the robot that landed in my backyard be one of the _sane _ones. I don't think the world is ready for an unsupervised Chromia. Or Ironhide. In fact, if you could make sure those two are never alone together in a crowded parking lot, I'd really appreciate it. Amen.'_

The other crater wasn't too far, so they covered it on foot, Elita carrying Nolan out of consideration for his leg. They all lined up around the rim of the steaming crater, the rocks fading from intense white to red as they cooled. At the bottom of the crater, a medium sized, dull silver mech frame uncurled to his full height, bright blue optics shining up at them.

Before anyone could say anything, Jazz beat them all to the punch.

"Prowler!"

The solstice literally leaped down into the crater onto the not-so-mystery mech and promptly, literally, unbelievably, for lack of a better word…glomped him.

"Hello Jazz." 'Prowler' greeted him, a tad flatly, and making no motion to return the hug. "And my name is not 'Prowler', it's 'Prowl'. It hasn't been so long you've forgotten my name."

"Aww, don't be like that!" Jazz pouted. "Didn't'ya miss me?"

"Like Cosmic Rust." Prowl said flatly. But in spite of the slightly harsh words, there was an undercurrent of long-suffering fondness, not just in his tone, but in the slight curve at the corner of his mouth and his eyes. To the observant person, it was plain as day the long friendship these two, already demonstrating to be as different as night and day, must have shared.

"So, are these guys friends or not?" Nolan asked, scratching his head.

Optimus leaned down and gave Prowl a hand out of the crater, with Jazz crawling out after him. "Prowl. It's good to see you again." He said, warmth coloring his tone.

"It's been a long time, Prime," Prowl said back, Jazz still grinning like a maniac behind him. Prowl turned to acknowledge Elita, but couldn't completely school his expression before a flicker of shock flitted across his expression.

"I had a more difficult landing experience," Elita said by way of answer.

"I…see," Prowl said, looking a bit uncomfortable. Optimus looked over his shoulder, back where they had left Ironhide and Chromia.

"They are likely finished by now. We could try seeing if they are ready yet."

Elita scooped up Nolan again and put him on her shoulder, with the rest of the humans dogging their heels.

Jazz started off after them, but was stopped by Prowls hand on his shoulder, keeping him close. Prowl wasn't looking at him, keeping his optics down, but his firm grip on Jazz's shoulder said enough.

The saboteur gave him a gentle smile, and patted his hand. "S'okay, Prowler. I missed ya too."

Prowl smiled slightly, and let his hand slide off after giving his dear friends shoulder another squeeze.

Everyone got back just as Chomia and Ironhide were coming up out of the ravine, both looking considerably more relaxed than before.

"Did you manage to get it out of your system?" Elita asked mildly as her shorter SiC came close. Chromia grinned shamelessly, but did a double take once she got a good look at her leaders scarring.

"Primus Elita, what the Pit happened to YOU?"

"Many things," she answered dryly. "Would you prefer the list now or the story later?"

But Chromia wasn't fixated on the scarring anymore. Instead, she was distracted by the human riding on her commanding officers shoulder.

"Hey Elita, you've got something on your shoulder." The shorter femme shrugged, and two huge cannons unfolded from her back and rested on each shoulder, whining with building power. "Want me to get rid of it for you?"

"Get away from me you freak!" Nolan cried out, throwing his hands up in defense. Yes Nolan, that will totally protect you from being vaporized by plasma cannons longer that you are tall.

"Stand down Chromia," Elita warned, bringing up a hand to cover Nolan. "I will not have you terrorizing our human allies."

"I was just joking!" Chromia said, sounding a little off put. "I wasn't actually gonna shoot him right off your shoulder. I just wanted to show off my new guns."

Sam gaped in horror.

"Oh dear sweet merciful god, now there's two of them." He groaned. Ironhide snickered, and gave Chromia (shudder) googly eyes from behind.

Sam's comment didn't go unnoticed. Chromia looked down and seemed sincerely surprised by the organic entourage.

"So, we're collecting humans now?" Chromia asked, squatting down for a better look. She poked Sam in the stomach. "Funny looking things, aren't they?"

"Cut that out!" Sam protested, slapping it away.

"Oooh, I like this one." Chromia decided with a grin. Sam scrambled backwards out of her reach, and Bumblebee bent to swap Chromia's hand out of way.

"Too bad, I have dibs." He warned.

"Hey!" Sam protested.

Several of the Autobots chuckled, Prowl with the ever present straight face, either because he has no sense of humor, or couldn't laugh a loud to save his life. Possibly, only Jazz knew which it was.

"So, any of you got a name?" Chromia asked congenially.

"Yes Sam, perhaps you should handle the introductions, seeing as general consensus has you as the future Human-Autobot liaison," Optimus added. It was hard to tell if he was teasing or not, but Sam snapped to attention anyway, so quickly he almost gave himself whiplash.

"Right, right. Um, I'm Sam, Sam Witwicky, nice to meet you, Prowl, Big Scary Robot Lady."

Chromia snorted in her hand, so he must be making a good impression (yay). Sam half turned to indicate the other teens.

"And this is Mikaela, she's sort of Ratchet's apprentice,"

"She is?!" Prowl exclaimed, staring at the girl. Mikaela huffed and put her fists on her hips.

"What, you think I can't do it because I'm human?"

Jazz stopped Prowls response with a hand on the shoulder. "Don't even go there," Jazz warned his friend quietly. "She's prolly gonna be doin' your next check up."

Prowl briefly considered, then wisely chose to shut up.

Sam stared for a few seconds, looking both impressed and a little scared.

"Right, up, yeah, anyway, this is Aine, and you've already met Nolan."

"Why does he have that white thing on his leg?"

"Partially for the same reason I only have half a face," Elita answered lightly.

"Yeah, that's a story," Sam said, rubbing his hands together. At a loss for what else to say, she shrugged and spread his hands, looking at Chromia and Prowl.

"So, yeah, Chromia, Prowl, welcome to Earth. Please watch your step, we're very squishy and I hear we make a big mess that's a pain to clean up."

* * *

And that's it! After nearly eight months, the story has finally run its course. Sorry if the ending seems a bit abrupt, but I really really really wanted Chromia and Prowl to show up (but mostly Chromia, and you can probably guess why), and I couldn't think of a way to tie it off without dragging it out.

I want to thank everyone who's read and reviewed my first story. You guy's made it all worthwhile, and you've boosted my confidence so much, you have no idea. One writer named **A Midnight Dreary **even told me that she was inspired again to pick up her own story, "Till All Are One" after re-reading TPWIP (if you're a fan of the Seekers, I highly recommend her fic), which made me all giggly happy inside. A special thanks to **Lasgalendil** and **Slink T. Ferret**, who have never failed to leave long, detailed, wonderful reviews for every chapter. I swear, if you two were the only ones who commented, I think I would have kept with this story to the end just for you guys!

Writing this story has given me another gift: I've rediscovered my love for writing, and my old dream of become a young adult fiction writer. I don't know if it'll be something I can do full time – we can't all be J.K. Rowling's or Stephen King's, after all – but I feel like I've connected with my original passion and once again it's something I want to try and do. For giving me that, you all have my deepest, most sincere gratitude.

See you all next story!


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